


All We Need is Somebody to Lean On

by MissHowdoyoudo



Series: Lean On [1]
Category: Supernatural, The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Bad Parent John Winchester, Ben Hargreeves Deserves Better, Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Ben Hargreeves' Tentacles | Bentacles, Blood and Gore, Crossdressing, Demons, F/M, Ghosts, Hurt Ben Hargreeves, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote this instead of doing my homework, I'll think of more tags later I'm sure, Karen is Best Mom, Kinda, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, M/M, Maybe more when John comes in, Mentions of Child Murder, Mentions of Murder, Missouri is The Best, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Ben Hargreeves, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Klaus Hargreeves, Protective Sam Winchester, References to Suicide, Season/Series 01, Sorry Not Sorry, Suicide Attempt, Teen Language, The Horror loves Klaus, They all need help tbh, Toxic Masculinity, Underage Drinking, Vomiting, Wow that's dark, because I said so, because klaus doesn't care about gender norms, but only for like a second, fight me, idk - Freeform, no beta we die like ben, the hunter's life is a brutal one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:41:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 54
Words: 152,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22011247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissHowdoyoudo/pseuds/MissHowdoyoudo
Summary: Klaus left home after Ben's death and never looked back. Ben just wants his brother to be okay. Sam blames himself over his girlfriend's death, Dean needs his dad, and the car they stole has an unconscious teenager in the back. Can't they just catch a break?(Chapter one now has a Russian translation!! Thank you to RiRei for the work: https://ficbook.net/readfic/9631717)
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Dean Winchester, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Klaus Hargreeves & Dean Winchester, Klaus Hargreeves & Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester & Ben Hargreeves
Series: Lean On [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852543
Comments: 1257
Kudos: 2034





	1. I Ain't Too Proud

Klaus had been away from home for . . . three months now? It was definitely colder, so, winter? Yeah, about that range, then. He didn’t care, though. As long as there was money to be had and drugs in his pockets, then he was happy. (Happiness was such a fantasy.)

And anyways, he was being constantly followed around by his dead brother, so . . .

So, yeah.

Ben was a constant in his life after he had died. He was always nagging at Klaus to _stop doing drugs_ and _eat more than just a moldy bagel from the garbage_ and _go to rehab or a shelter or_ something _because it's going to get too cold tonight and I don't want you to get sick._

Klaus didn't deserve it, and he knew he didn't, so he pushed Ben away. It hurt his brother every time, but it was better that way.

"Why aren't you haunting one of the others?" Klaus asked suddenly, probably high out of his mind to even remember this conversation later. He slumped against the alley’s brick wall behind him, his black jacket protecting next to nothing from the biting chill. He's gotten used to it now, since he's always been cold. "I'm sure you'd have a much better time following literally anyone else."

Ben folded his arms and gave Klaus a Look. He's been getting better at making Klaus guilty. "You know why I stick with you. You can see me. You can talk to me. Basically, you're keeping me sane."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "As if. I may be able to do those things, but the frustration of me never listening to you must drive you absolutely batty."

"Well, maybe if you just listened once I wouldn't be so frustrated."

"Brother dear," Klaus placed a hand on his heart, "that wouldn't be any fun. Live a little!"

"Says the living to the dead." Ben huffed and shook his head. He was just starting to move on from his death just a few months previous. Of course, it would probably come back now and again when Klaus did something really stupid, but Klaus could make dead jokes now without Ben looking extremely sad and lost. 

"But, I mean it." Klaus shuffled from foot to foot, glancing anywhere but at Ben. "You could stay with Allison, who is probably going to rumor her way through acting school once she leaves. You could go to Luther and keep him company, because I'm near positive that he'll be all alone in that cold prison we called a home. And Diego, with his police stuff! Didn't he say he wanted to keep catching the bad guys even after we all left?" He threw out his arms. Ben raised a brow, unimpressed. Klaus looked back down. "What about Vanya? It would be peaceful to follow her, quiet. You'd always have a violin performance before bed. Or Five? I'm sure he's still alive out there. You could go on a journey to find him."

"Why do you want me gone so badly, Klaus?" Ben said sarcastically, but to Klaus’s messy mind he took it seriously. "Do you hate me or something?”

“I don’t hate you, Ben,” Klaus said softly. “I could never hate you. I do want you here.”

“What?” Ben furrowed his brows.

“I just . . .” Klaus thought about what he wanted to say. He knew he could say something to make Ben shrug him off or laugh or really anything, but . . . He wanted to be honest. He was so tired. “I know you and the others don’t like me much, if at all. I’m not really the first choice when someone wants to hang out, you know? I’m a junkie, and annoying beyond belief. I’m there for a pick-me-up, maybe a hug or two, but I’m easily replaceable with . . . I don’t know, a puppy or something.”

“Klaus--”

“So, I thought maybe you’d want to hang out with one of the others, because surely you can’t stand being around me all hours of every day, especially when nothing new happens. Well unless you count the times when I OD, in which case that can get pretty exciting.”

“Klaus, wait--!”

“I’m just saying, Benny-boy, I won’t be changing my lifestyle any time soon. Dad was right: I’m useless and a coward and I have nothing going for me except hospital bills and expenses for a funeral.”

“Stop! Klaus, stop! Please!”

Klaus sucked in a harsh breath, head shooting up to face his ghost brother. Ben swam before his eyes, and after a few blinks he realized he was crying. He didn’t mean to do that.

Ben was crying, too. Ghostly tears tracked down his dark skin. Huh. He didn’t think that was possible. Was it because of his powers?

“Klaus . . .” Ben reached out, but his hands simply passed through Klaus’s arms. The sentiment was still there, even if they both winced. “You don’t really think that, do you?”

Klaus tilted his head to the side and narrowed his hazel eyes. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t really think that you’re . . . useless and easily replaceable and stuff, right?”

The fear in his brother’s voice froze Klaus in place. “What’s wrong? I was just stating the truth, and I really do think you’d be happier around someone else.”

“Oh, Klaus . . .” Ben sniffled and wiped at his face. “This whole thing isn’t just about me anymore. I got really mad at you, at first, for not conjuring me so I could talk to everyone, but I get why you didn’t, now. I get why you do drugs to make the other, nastier ghosts disappear, and why you hide yourself behind smiles and fake laughs to project that you’re okay.” Ben’s anguished face stared deep into Klaus’s soul. “You’re not okay. How . . . Why do you think like that? Don’t you know that it’s all untrue?”

Klaus huffed a short laugh, trying to break the tension a little. It clearly didn’t work. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself. “It seems to me that all of what I said is true. There hasn’t really been a moment where I could allow myself to think differently, especially when it came to you and the others.”

With a jerk, Ben pressed closer to Klaus. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you when we were younger. But I’m here now.”

“Only because you claim you have to be, Benny.” Klaus gave a tight smile. Ben didn’t reciprocate.

“I stay because I want to. You’re my brother and I love you. I want to make sure you’re okay, and everytime something bad happens to you I get so, so scared.” Klaus’s eyes widened at the earnestness in Ben’s tone. “I . . . I might be the only one who still cares about you, and that hurts me, but I don’t plan on ever leaving you. So, deal with it.”

Ben finished, a little angry, but mostly determined. He stood up straighter so he was eye level with Klaus. Klaus just stared back in shock, mouth hanging open. Did Ben really stay for him? Why? Klaus was a terrible, selfish person. Ben was the best of them all, too good for the world. And yet, he would stay to be there for _Klaus_? Weak, cowardly, junkie Number Four?

That . . . That was too much for him. He didn’t deserve it _at all_. Living the way he did now, on the streets, with drugs surrounding him nearly as much as the ghosts that screamed and begged and cried at him, was the life he deserved to live. He probably wouldn’t make it to twenty at this rate. Four years was a long time, and with the oncoming winter he was sure he would die before spring came.

But Ben, sweet, caring, loving, quiet Ben, believed he deserved more, that all the things he said about himself were untrue. Ben said he _loved him_.

Klaus gave his brother a small, genuine smile. “Wanna get waffles near that old motel?”

Ben smiled back, big and loving. “Sounds perfect.”

Sam stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep away the cold. Dean shakily walked beside him out of the airport, most likely still traumatized by the crashing plane. “We are never, _ever_ , doing something like that again,” said Dean. “When I say we take the car, _we take the car_.”

The younger of the two rolled his eyes and huffed. “Sure, whatever you say.”

“I mean it. And now, I’m 200 miles away from my baby,” Dean said. He took the lead. The plan was to stay at a nearby motel until they got enough rest, then they’d head back for Pennsylvania and pick up Dean’s beloved car.

“The Impala will be fine in the airport parking lot until we get back. They have cameras all over the place, and security.”

“I don’t trust them with her.”

Sam sighed and shook his head. Dean might skip the first part of the plan at this rate. “Come on, let’s just find a place to sleep for a bit, then we’ll head right back. I don’t think it’s a good idea to drive when we’ve had maybe three hours of sleep put together from the last few days.”

Dean still looked keyed up, but he nodded. “Yeah, and I need a burger. Some fries. Milkshake. _Pie_. Like, three pies.”

With a snort, Sam followed behind his older brother. “Of course.”

Irritation bubbled up in Klaus’s stomach. “I can see the prices right there. It says it’s $29 for one night!”

The man behind the check-in counter raised a brow and gave Klaus another once-over with beady eyes. His combover was unflattering, and if Klaus wasn’t so desperate for him to cooperate, he’d give him a scathing review about his choice in attire. Seriously, who wore sports shorts and a tweed jacket?

“And I told you that the price went up to $80,” the man said.

After the lovely dinner of waffles and more waffles, Klaus and Ben had walked across the street to the cheap motel Ben had _insisted_ he stay at least one night in. As soon as he came in, though, the man behind the counter had frowned and crossed his arms, then told him they raised the prices suddenly. Lies. The motel wasn’t good enough for that much money. It had ghosts crawling through the fake plaster walls and questionable stains everywhere. Not to mention the broken window on the second floor that they had duct taped back together. Yeah, he noticed that, idiots.

“Here, I have $30 and a little bit of chocolate? I bet in a place like this they don’t give you enough money for luxury stuff like this, right?”

“Moron,” Ben said next to him. He pretended to not hear him.

The man’s scowl deepened. He didn’t budge.

Klaus groaned and ran a hand through his curly black hair. “Look, man, it’s just one night! Can’t you give me that much? There’s supposed to be a storm! I have the money, so just--”

“I don’t want your kind in my motel,” he interrupted. He waved a hand up and down at Klaus’s outfit, then gestured to his face. “You’re clearly high, probably a hooker. What age are you, anyway? Fourteen?" He was actually sixteen, thank you very much. "Even if it’s a beat down place, doesn’t mean I want you scampering around.”

Now that was just plain rude. Offended, Klaus pointed a finger at him. “Look here mister--”

“He’s with me,” a voice said behind them. Klaus turned around to see an older man, probably late thirties to early forties. He had a kind smile and a business aura around him. Middle class, maybe? He stepped forward and placed a large hand on Klaus’s shoulder. Ben hissed at the touch on his brother and shook his head as the man gestured with his free hand towards the prices. “One night.”

“I don’t like this, Klaus,” Ben whispered. He nervously shot a look to the man, and back again.

 _You and me both, bro_. Klaus wriggled underneath the hand clamped down on him. It was vice-like in its grip. He swallowed heavily. This was going downhill so fast.

"We don't have any rooms available," Mr. I-Don't-Like-Kids-Who-Dress-Better-Than-Me said. "Not to hookers and their customers."

"I'm not--"

"That's fine," the man behind him cut him off, hand tightening painfully on a pressure point to get him to shut up. _Very, very not good_. "We'll go somewhere else."

The hand clasped around his bird-like shoulder steered him out of the room. Klaus shot Ben a terrified glance, but his brother couldn't do anything except look just as frightened.

Klaus was led out around the back of the building and into an alleyway. "Ah, I see we're taking the scenic route. Lovely shade of gray, black, and brown down this way. And look! A bloodstain!" He laughed, nerves on fire.

"Klaus, hit him in the balls!"

"I can't hit him from here . . ." Klaus whispered back. The man held him at arm's length and was at least a foot taller than him. Plus, with the tight grip on his shoulder, he could neither run nor escape, and attempting to kick at the man would probably end badly for him.

"Shut up," the man said as he crowded Klaus against the wall, the boy's chest flat against the brick. His cheek was scratched from the rough handling, and he scrambled to get out from the vulnerable position.

"H-Hey, wait a sec--"

"I said shut up!" The roar caused Klaus's ears to ring. He slammed the boy against the wall and Klaus saw stars.

"Klaus!" Ben yelped. He looked furious. If he was still alive, Klaus was sure that he would open his chest to The Horror and splatter this guy across the already stained bricks.

"Please, stop," Klaus whimpered. "Don't."

A large hand tangled in his black curls harshly and pulled his head back, craning his neck at a very uncomfortable position. "You're a druggie, right? I'll pay you handsomely for a good night."

His breath made Klaus want to gag, despite the peppermint filling his nose. Usually, Klaus would lean into whatever touch he could get, no matter how harsh, desperate for it. But right now, all he wanted was to curl up in a warm blanket and listen to music while Ben read in the background. He didn't want this. _He didn't want this_.

"H-Help!" Klaus shouted. "Help! Please!"

His head smashed against the wall. One, two, three. Warm blood trickled from his hairline into his eyes, blinding him. Darkness crept into his mind and he went limp in the man's arms.

The last thing he saw was Ben's grief stricken and terror filled eyes.

They made it to a crappy motel sometime around ten that evening and got maybe two hours of rest before Dean was shaking him awake.

"Time to go, Sammy," Dean said cheerily, but Sam could hear the anxiousness in his voice.

Sam groaned and rolled over. "C'mon, Dean. Another hour at least."

Dean shoved Sam's blankets off and chuckled. "No can do. I won't feel better until we're back with Baby."

With a sigh, Sam rubbed his eyes tiredly and sat up. " _Fine_. But you don't get to complain about how exhausted you are while I get to sleep in the passenger seat."

They packed their things and headed out into the parking lot. To their luck, there was a car already on, no one in it.

"Jackpot! Here I come," Dean hopped into the car, throwing his gear carelessly into the backseat. 

Sam carefully slid into the passenger seat, head bowed to keep from banging it against the door. He never liked it when they stole things from others, but the person that had left the engine on was practically begging for it to be stolen. Idiot.

Just before Dean drove off, a man in an expensive looking suit exited the motel and spotted them. His eyes went comically wide and he jogged for the car. “Go!” Sam smacked Dean’s shoulder.

Dean didn’t hesitate, peeling from the curb with a squeal of the tires. The man shouted for them to _stop!_ , his arms waving about wildly. They left him behind.

“Dude was a freakin’ moron,” Dean said.

Sam couldn’t help but agree. “Lucky us.”

“Yeah. Lucky us.” Dean patted the dashboard and whooped.

The ride was mostly quiet after that, Dean turning on the radio to a low volume and the expensive car making a low hum as it rolled along. It wasn’t like the Impala, the usual growl of the engine being a comfort to Sam. Instead, it left him feeling unnerved and unsafe. He wasn’t _home_. It took him a long time to relax enough to fall asleep.

An hour later, Sam sleeping and Dean going at a speed that was far past the legal point, something thumped in the back of the car. The sound startled Sam awake, who looked like he was in the midst of a nightmare anyway, and Dean cursed before pulling off the side of the road.

“What was that?” Sam asked.

“Nothing good, I’m sure. Think maybe the dude we ditched was a vamp?”

“I hope not,” Sam groaned. Great. A victim that they technically just kidnapped. They’d have to drive all the way back and pray the police wouldn’t get involved.

“Only way to find out,” Dean said before he hopped out of the car and jogged to the back. Sam followed at a more sedate pace, wary of what they’d find. Dean already had a weapon ready, just in case, as he opened the trunk.

“What the--”


	2. I'm Caught Up In the Middle of It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus is taken to the hospital and the Winchesters decide to stick around to make sure he gets home safe. Ben thinks these two are completely mental.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I was not expecting so many people to like the first chapter so much. Thank you for all the kudos and kind words!  
> Please feel free to leave constructive criticism in the comments. I don't know a whole lot about hospitals or medical jargon.  
> Last chapter needed some editing, as I'm sure this one does too. If there are any inconsistencies that I missed, please point them out.  
> Thanks!

Ben could honestly say that the whole night was a terrible ride. He wanted off hours ago--or, well, wanted  _ Klaus _ off of it hours ago. Nothing was really happening to Ben since he was dead. Details.

Before things went to hell, they had a conversation that Ben didn’t know they needed, then had a lovely dinner of waffles and way too much whipped cream. That was all fine and good, and he got to laugh at his brother when he got syrup on his “nicest pair of pants, stop laughing Ben!”. He honestly thought that the night was one of the best they had had in a long time. Then it spiralled out of control.

Seeing his brother so scared and acting like he wasn’t while in danger made Ben want to cry. Seeing his brother get beaten to the point of unconsciousness and possibly gain serious brain damage was most likely the scariest thing to happen to Ben, and he had lived with monsters in his chest for fifteen years. Seeing his brother stuffed into the back of a car and trussed up like a prized pig made his anger flare like never before. If he was still alive . . . If he was still alive!

That was the problem, wasn’t it? He was dead and couldn’t do a  _ thing _ to help his brother. All he could do was spectate from the sidelines and beg for Klaus to  _ please wake up, you need to fight back! You need to run! _

He thought Klaus was going to be kidnapped by that man and have terrible things happen to him. He thought Klaus was going to be joining him way too soon in the afterlife, which was something Ben  _ refused _ to have happen (he’d find God or the devil or whoever was in charge of that stuff and give them a piece of his mind).

He thought a lot of things, none of them good things, and all of them ending up with Klaus having a much messier fate than Ben, which is saying something.

He did not expect two other men to steal the car Klaus was trapped in and drive off without the business man.

“Klaus, you gotta wake up! You’ve been kidnapped from the kidnapper!”

Klaus didn’t respond, hands duct taped behind his back and his mouth taped shut. His head bled sluggishly, and detachedly Ben wondered if Klaus would complain about his ruined makeup once he woke up.

“Klaus.” Ben reached out to shake him, but like every other time, his hand just went through. “Klaus, please.”

Ben was laid down next to Klaus in the trunk, half of his body in the trunk and the other half in the back seat of the car. Other than the steady breaths of his brother and the quiet rock music playing from the front seat, it was quiet. The trunk was musty and smelled like gym socks, which Ben was sure Klaus would not appreciate.

The two new men, one with long shaggy hair and the other short and bow-legged, didn’t know that Klaus was in the trunk, that much was obvious. They stole the car out of luck, both for them and Klaus. Now if Ben could just get Klaus to wake up he could get him out of this situation . . .

“Klaus--”

Klaus’s eyes shot open and he let out a soft grunt of alarm. Ben instantly leaned further into his brother’s space, letting Klaus see him. “Klaus! It’s me, it’s Ben. Can you hear me?”

Klaus’s unfocused eyes rolled over to Ben’s face, which he counted as a win. Ben smiled tightly. “Hey, man. You with me?”

His brother blinked lazily at Ben, blank and struggling to understand. Blood dribbled from his brow and fell into one of his eyes. He winced and became a bit more aware. Ben could see the moment he tried to say his name, and when fear clouded his face as he couldn’t.

“Klaus, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Klaus let out a grunt and shook his head, eyes desperate. And, yeah, okay, Ben could see that this was definitely  _ not _ okay, and who knows how long Klaus would be mentally sane and what if he was trapped in here for hours and hours and Ben could only watch as his brother slowly  _ died from dehydration _ \--

Ben took a calming breath he didn’t need to actually take. He needed to stay calm and collected for his brother. No sense in them both panicking. “Klaus. I need you to make noise. The guys in the car don’t know you're here. They stole the car. They might be able to help you if you make enough noise.”

Klaus slowly shook his head, laying it back down. He seemed completely exhausted, and Ben was nervous he might pass out again.

“Please. Once they hear you, you can lay down in the back seat and it won’t be as cramped or dark.”

Klaus whined, his breath picking up as he noticed how dark it really was in the trunk. How enclosed it was. Muscles tensed and legs jerked out against the walls of the small space.

He only managed to make a loud thump before he groaned and fell limp again. His eyes rolled around unseeingly.

"Okay, that's fine, you're fine. I'm sure they heard something--"

The car came to a halt and Ben grinned. "Yes!"

Two doors slammed and light footsteps rounded the car. Ben kept a constant hand on Klaus, except that neither could really feel the other and it was more of a hover just above his shoulder. Klaus seemed to calm slightly at the action anyway.

Anticipation for the trunk to open had Ben tensing and holding his breath, both of which he couldn’t actually do. If he still had a heart, he's sure it would have been thundering in his chest.

The door flipped open to reveal the shorter of the pair holding a huge hunting knife that glinted in the moonlight.

Ben chilled at the sight and shouted at Klaus, "Klaus! You gotta run!"

Klaus's eyes were closed and he remained completely lax. He had passed out again.

Horror washed over Ben. No way. Not now. He had to wake up. He had to get away! "Klaus! Klaus!! KLAUS!"

"What the--" the man switched the knife to his other hand and lurched forward. Ben had a moment of terror, throat closing and tongue tying as he made an unflattering noise akin to a protest. But the man only placed his fingers against Klaus's pulse point. Both relaxed.

"We have an unconscious teen in our trunk." He stood back up and tucked the knife away. "Taped up like a mummy. It looks like he's got a nasty head wound."

"Really?" The other man came into view. Ben noticed how he stayed behind the smaller man even as curiosity made him draw closer. “Oh . . .”

“Yeah. Guess the vamp theory was correct.” Ben had no idea what that meant, but he was just relieved that someone was able to help. The smaller man leaned down to lift Klaus from the trunk. He was most likely expecting a lot more weight, because he stumbled back as Klaus’s small frame easily came with him. “Jeez, when’s the last time this kid had a hamburger?”

“See, Klaus? I’m not the only one that knows you need to eat more,” Ben mumbled. A lot of the cash that Klaus had immediately went to drugs. The few bills that didn’t usually went to anything else, whether that be a warm meal, a new coat, or somewhere that he could hunker down for the night. Ben, more than a few times, has begged Klaus to use the money he had to pay for both a meal and a place to stay.

Well, and look how that turned out. Guilt gnawed at him. Klaus wouldn’t be in this position, wouldn’t even be hurt like this right now if it weren’t for him. If he hadn’t nagged at Klaus to stay at that motel, then his brother might be okay huddled near a dumpster or something.

That still sounded terrible.

Ben wished he hadn’t died, for most likely the millionth time in so few minutes.

He was shaken from his thoughts when the trunk was closed. With a sigh, he sat up so his head poked out. He watched as the two men hovered over his brother.

“We should take him to a hospital," the taller man said as he pulled out his phone. Ben tensed again. That was a  _ very not good _ idea.

But . . . Klaus was really hurt, and he didn’t know just how much. There could be brain damage. He bit his lip. The possibility of an overdose was high if Klaus went to the hospital. Brain damage, or overdose?

  
  


"Good plan,” Dean said. He began removing tape from around the teenager while Sam called an ambulance. He kept checking to make sure that none of the tape had hidden wounds underneath that were being held together with the flimsy adhesive.

The black jacket the teen wore was covered in dried blood that cracked and flaked off as he moved him around. Curly black hair clumped where the head wound was still slowly leaking blood. His ripped jeans, which left hardly  _ anything _ to the imagination, were ridiculously small, almost like a child’s, but seemed to fit near perfectly.

“Jeez kid . . .” Dean shook his head. Once the tape was fully removed (he bet that it was just a precaution--the kid probably could have ripped through it easily enough if he wasn’t out of it,  _ despite  _ his thin arms), Dean rechecked his pulse. The steady thrum of it under his fingers made him smile softly. Kid was a fighter.

“Ambulance will be here in a few,” Sam said. Dean looked up as his little brother knelt beside them, his hazel eyes narrowed on the kid’s head wound. “Took a nasty hit. Not from any kind of weapon, though. Wall?”

Dean shrugged. “Most likely. Not a vamp’s usual go to, but maybe he was fighting back with all he had.”

“You think he’s capable of that?” Sam frowned. “He’s really small.”

“Maybe he was thrown back into it.” Dean shook his head. “Look, doesn’t matter. Can you hand me a bandage or something from the bag? I wanna stop the bleeding, but I’m also going to keep a finger on his pulse in case it fluctuates.”

Sam nodded and stood back up. Dean sighed and scrubbed at his face. This was going to be a really long night.

Ben didn’t like that he had to squish in the corner of the ambulance once it got there, especially since he was partly inside of someone else. It felt  _ wrong _ , almost like he was touching another spirit but not. When he touched other spirits, it was like when he was alive and could interact with real things. With this, it was like . . . squishy. Like there was a layer between them, but he could still feel it.

He was immensely grateful when he could get out of there. He shook himself off like a dog and briefly noticed that the woman he had been sharing space with stopped chattering her teeth. Klaus always did mention how the dead were freezing.

“Sorry lady.”

Ben followed the group that wheeled his brother inside, not wanting to leave his side for a second. The hospital seemed low budget and was smaller than anything he had seen on TV. Klaus hated the hospital ( _ “It’s so loud in hospitals, Benny. Why would I want to deafen myself along with whatever ails me?” _ ) and usually revived from an OD while on the way, so Ben never really got a good look at one before. He’ll admit, it wasn’t exactly what he had pictured.

The walls were white, the floors spotless, while the air smelled of antiseptic and rubber. Klaus was carted off behind a set of double doors that sealed off as soon as the group was through. He was left in the tiny waiting room with a receptionist behind a bulletproof glass window, and the chairs looked extremely uncomfortable. He phased through the double doors.

The rest of the hospital was standard. It had several rooms for patients and an ICU. Lights buzzed overhead and a few flickered as he passed them.

Klaus's room was nice. He was the only one in there, and as the doctors worked, Ben was able to get a good look around where his brother would be staying. There was a window on the far wall with a  _ great  _ view of the parking lot and a tree smack in the middle. It didn't look like it opened (but leave it to Klaus to still find a way).

All that was left to do now was wait.

Dean was sick of waiting. Shouldn’t the kid be done yet? It had been over an hour since they wheeled him behind the double doors and no word. He was getting anxious.

Anxious to hit the road. Anxious about the kid and what happened. (Anxious that his dad hadn’t contacted them in a long time.)

“Dean, would you just sit down? Your pacing isn’t helping,” Sam grumbled. No wonder he was grumpy. Those seats looked terribly uncomfortable.

“Can’t. Too much energy.”

Sam groaned. “You’re making me nervous! Just--”

“John Doe?”

Both men looked up at the new voice. A doctor smiled stiffly their way and gestured for them to follow him. He had brown scruffy hair and a mole under his nose, and carried himself with a purpose.

“He was pretty roughed up when you brought him in,” the doctor explained. “Concussion, major head wound, lacerations to his face and arms, and some fingers damaged from attempting to fight back. We patched him up and gave him a blood transfusion, and he should be fine as long as he wakes up within the next twenty-four hours.”

They nodded along to what the doctor said, but Sam piped up at the end, “Did he have any marks on his neck? Like puncture wounds?”

“What department did you say you were from again?”

The two showed their fake IDs they still had with them from the plane accident. The doctor hummed and gestured into the room where the kid rested.

His head and arms were covered in bandages, but his eyes were closed in a seemingly peaceful rest. His curls stuck up past the bandages in a chaotic mess.

“No puncture marks, just some scratches. May I ask why you ask?”

Dean shook his head and turned back to the doctor. “We’ve seen a few cases that were similar. The one who keeps doing it leaves puncture marks on the neck, like a signature.”

Sam gave him a Look, and Dean shrugged in response.

“I see. Scary.” The doctor shook himself and gestured to the boy. “Well, luckily, none of that.”

“Thank you for your help, Doctor . . .?” Sam trailed off.

“Schuett.”

“Doctor Schuett.”

Schuett sighed. “Stuff like this makes me so sad. He’s still a minor, not even old enough to make life changing decisions yet. We’re hoping he stays asleep through the withdrawal, but if not it would be beneficial if someone he knows is close by to watch over him.”

“Withdrawal?” Dean’s brows raised.

“You didn’t know? I thought that was how you found him.” Schuett pursed his lips. “Yes. He was on several different drugs that would put a normal teenager in the hospital ten times over. He must have been doing them since he was young. Or, well, younger. He was probably in the middle of a dispute over money when you found him.”

The brothers glanced to each other. What the hell had this kid gone through?

“Well, thank you for answering all of our questions, Doc,” Dean said. He gave the man a smile before seeing him to the door. “If you don’t mind, we’d like to stay here and interrogate him when he comes to.”

“Page either me or a nurse when he does. We need to check first if he has any memory problems.”

“Promise we will,” Sam said.

With that, Dean closed the door firmly, then locked it. He checked out the small window to make sure they weren’t being listened to and turned to his little brother.

“What the hell?”

“I don’t know!” Sam threw his hands up. “Vampires go after homeless people a lot, but drugs? And tying them up to throw them in the back of a car? This is super weird, Dean.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Dean flopped into a chair by the hospital bed. “Should we stick around until he wakes up? Make sure he gets home?”

“Of course we should,” Sam said. “He was kidnapped and beat up. And then kidnapped again accidentally. We may not have intended it, but he’s our responsibility now.”

Dean groaned and tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. Popcorned stucco stared back at him. “My baby is going to go another night without me.”

“You’ll survive,” Sam scoffed.

Vampires. The tall one just said  _ vampires _ . That’s what they meant? Ben stared at them with wide eyes. They believed that vampires existed and that one of said mythical creatures had tried to . . . well, do something to Klaus. Hurt him? Eat him? Kidnap him and make him into a vampire too?

Ben had seen a lot of things, crazy things that couldn’t be explained by science. But  _ vampires _ ? What? He had monsters that came out of his chest, but these guys were  _ nuts _ .

Not to mention the  _ fake IDs _ they both used to get in. FBI agents? As if! They stole a car, firstly, and secondly they had FAKE identification! These two were bad news.

“Klaus, as soon as you wake up, we’re getting the heck outta here . . .”

That’s when Klaus decided to scream.


	3. My Tears Are Always Frozen, I Can See the Air I Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus and the Winchesters have a friendly chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not happy with this chapter, but I couldn't think of any better way to get everything in my messy brain down. Is it cliché? Yes. Is it terrible? In my opinion. Is it in ABA format? Absolutely. I fall back on that when I don't know what to do, dang it ;-;

The kid started screaming. Sam had no idea why, but the pain and pure  _ terror _ he heard in the boy’s voice shook him to the core. Images from his nightmares flashed before his eyes, the kid’s screams matching someone else’s. Someone he could never forget. Someone he could never apologize to. Someone he desperately wanted to see, one last time.

_ Your fault, your fault, your fault. _

The teen on the bed was replaced with a blonde woman on the ceiling. Blood dripped from her middle onto his cheek.  _ Drip, drip, drip _ . Her face was frozen in shock and pain, mouth moving but words unspoken.

_ Why, Sam? Why, Sam? WHY, SAM? _

He could have saved her. He could have told her.  _ He could have, he could have, he could have _ .

_ Your fault, your fault, your fault _ .

He choked on the smoke, the flames engulfing her. He couldn’t move to help.  _ He couldn’t breathe _ .

“Sam!”

With a gasp, Sam came back to the present, Dean throwing him a concerned glance. 

Sam blinked at his brother. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and focused his eyes fully on Dean. His older brother gave him a tight smile.

"Help me with him, yeah?" Dean asked as he rounded the bed. Sam nodded without a word, feeling childish and ashamed. Shoving aside the pain and hurt and  _ guilt _ for another time, he followed his brother's lead.

The boy began to thrash on the bed. Dean leaned down to restrain his arms so he didn't hurt himself. "Grab his legs!"

Sam did as instructed, the last of the memories fading as he focused on his task. The kid was stronger than he looked, and small enough that he could slip out of grips easy unless one were to hold to the point of bruising.

"STOP! NO!" the kid sobbed. "PLEASE! BEN!"

A blue haze filled the room, gradually growing brighter and brighter. The boy's arms glowed the same sky blue, his veins pulsing the color under translucent and feverish skin. The temperature of the room dropped drastically, Sam being able to see his breath misting within seconds.

Moans filled the air, the sound of agony and need overwhelming Sam. He flicked his eyes to the corner and froze at what he saw.

Hundreds. Thousands. An amalgamation of dead. So many ghosts that they were crawling over each other to get to the bed. They're outlines were that same sky blue. Sam felt the blood drain from his face, leaving him dizzy.

A look at Dean told him his brother was just as pale.

The kid shot up, eyes wide and searching. For what, Sam hadn't a clue. He and Dean removed their hands as if burned.

The boy relaxed slowly once he found what he was looking for. "Ben . . ."

Just like that, the ghosts vanished in a puff of smoke, the kid's arms returning once more to their natural color.

"What . . . the hell?"

_ So loud. So LOUD. STOP! STOP SCREAMING AT ME! PLEASE! _

Klaus. Klaus! KLAUS! KLAUSKLAUSKLAUSKLAUSKLAUSKL--!

“STOP! NO!” Something was holding him down. Suffocating him. Dark, so dark! “PLEASE! BEN!”

Cold, so so cold. Hands grabbed at him.  _ He felt them _ .

Panic seized his chest and he pushed against the iron grip that held him down, clawed at him,  _ refused to let go _ . He thrashed and screamed and cried.

"Klaus!"

Ben.

His eyes shot open to horrid faces and wailing specters. Hands, so many hands, reaching for him and begging for him to  _ help, please help _ . But he can't help, he can't do anything,  _ stop stop stop. _ Their screams mirrored his, trying to be louder, trying to be heard. Blood oozed from wounds, vomit dripped from chins, broken limbs and necks and spines stretched at his awakening, and eyes that remained dark and soulless were zeroed in on him and no one else.

"Klaus!"

_ Ben _ .

His eyes fluttered about the room, trying to spot his brother amongst all the  _ deaddeaddead _ . There were so many. Too many. Cold and dead and gore and pain and  _ dark _ \--

"Klaus!"

_ Ben! _

With a gasp, Klaus sat up, the hoards of the dead backing up and the hands clasped to his arms falling away. His eyes locked directly onto his brother's, Ben's dark (so dark, where's the lights?) orbs filled with relief as soon as he looked to him.

“You’re here with me. They can’t hurt you. They can’t touch you. I’m here and I won’t ever leave you.”

Ben’s litany of reassurances and soothing words slowly helped Klaus reorient himself. With his brother’s help, he got his breathing to a natural rhythm and started to notice the world around him. A hospital bed. A hospital room. Hundreds upon hundreds of ghosts murmuring in his ear.  _ No wonder it was so loud _ .

"Ben . . ." Klaus breathed. His anchor. His brother. His  _ best friend _ .

"Klaus. Hey, man. How do you feel?" Ben came closer, the other ghosts giving him a wide berth. They could sense the other worldliness about him.

"Like I got hit by a truck," Klaus answered with a grunt. He reached up to feel something soft surrounding his head. "Why does my head hurt?"

Ben tutted, hands reaching out uselessly in an attempt to stop him from poking at his head. "Careful, you don't want to disturb your bandages."

Klaus's eyes met Ben's once more. He frowned when he noticed the tight lines around Ben's eyes and the way he pursed his lips to the point they nearly disappeared. Something shifted beneath his brother's clothing.  _ The Horror _ .

"Something's got you spooked. What's wrong?"

Ben glanced at him with haunted eyes. "You . . ."

Something scraped along the ground, drawing away Klaus' attention. Two men pulled up a chair on either side of him, one with shaggy hair and the other with a leather jacket.

"Explain," Leather Jacket demanded.

He honestly hadn't seen them, thinking they were some of the ghosts. They were real people, which meant that they heard him screaming, which meant they saw his panic attack, which meant they saw him talking to Ben.

Who were they? And why were they in his hospital room? He unconsciously tucked his head into his chest and pulled his legs and arms closer to his body.

“They’re the ones who helped you,” Ben explained. “They brought you to the hospital to treat your wounds.”

“Oh . . .” Klaus straightened but didn’t stretch out his legs. Instead, he tilted his head to regard them carefully. “Thanks for helping me, I guess. Explain what?”

“Who’s Ben?” Leather Jacket asked.

"Uh . . ." Klaus's eyes flicked to his brother, but Ben just fiddled with his jacket sleeves.

Leather Jacket sighed and snapped his fingers in front of Klaus’s face. Klaus blinked, startled by the action. “Okay, how about the reason behind you shrieking like a little girl into consciousness?”

Klaus scoffed. "Like I'd tell you that. You'd lock me in a crazy bin."

"Try me."

Klaus stubbornly remained silent, but with a sigh from Ben he frowned. "They already saw. Might want to tell them." He shrugged.

Klaus furrowed his brows. "Saw what?"

Ben shook his head. "I'll tell you later." He tucked his lower lip beneath his teeth, slender fingers tying themselves in knots in the nervous habit he never grew out of. He looked guilty.

Klaus did  _ not _ like that.

Leather Jacket and Long Hair were still looking to him expectantly, but their eyes flicked to where he was looking at Ben every few seconds.

"Can you see the dead?" Long Hair asked bluntly.

That completely shocked Klaus. "Well, that came out of left field."

“They believe in vampires, Klaus,” Ben piped in.

“Wait, seriously?” Klaus tilted his head at his brother, eyes still on Long Hair.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Long Hair went on. He couldn’t see his brother, no way. His eyes were just a tad off. Highly superstitious, though.

Leather Jacket spoke up, “Not only that, but you can summon them?”

Klaus hunched in. “Uh . . . more like they find me. Honestly, if I could, I would just never have any of them bother me, ever.” He grinned at Ben. “Except for you, of course, Benny-boy. You’re the best ghost  _ ever _ .”

Ben rolled his eyes fondly, sighing in exasperation.

“So, you admit it.” Long Hair nodded, looking pleased at having guessed right. “What was that earlier?”

“And who is Ben? You were screaming his name.”

“Mein bruder,” Klaus answered honestly. “And I get nightmares a lot, terrifying ones that are hard to get out of even when awake.” He fiddled with the paper thin sheets. Doesn’t help that the nightmare doesn’t ever end. He smiled bitterly.

The men looked at each other, communicating with their eyes. Which, that was so cool. “We need to learn to do that too, Ben!”

Ben just gave him a Look.

“Well,  _ yeah _ , I can read  _ you _ , but how do I know you can read  _ me _ just as well? You and your ghostly brooding, I doubt you have time to notice all of my flawless features.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “You think me being stuck with you for months on end doesn’t already make me an expert on you?”

“Or, even better, we should learn sign language and mess with people.” He cackled.

“You already know, like, ten languages,” Ben said. Klaus could see the interest. “Why would you need to learn another?”

“Think of all the stuff we could get into. I bet I could get away with driving if they think I’m deaf,” Klaus shrugged. “It’s already half true, most of the time.”

Long Hair coughed, effectively drawing Klaus’s attention back to them.

“Yes?” Klaus fluttered his eyelashes. These two were exceptionally hot, no one could judge him on that.

Long Hair just raised a brow. Bummer. “So, your brother is here? And dead?”

“Exactamundo, big guy.”

“And he doesn’t, I don’t know, have anything else to do other than follow you around?” he asked. “Like, exact revenge or tell a loved one he’s sorry he’s gone?”

Klaus quirked his lips and lowered a brow. “What? No.” He chuckled, which grew into laughter. “No! Ben is the best out of all my siblings, no way he has any revenge plots.”

“Actually . . .”

Klaus just laughed harder, Ben joining in. “Good point, Ben, but I think we all want dad dead, so . . . not exactly special there, hm?”

“You want your dad dead?” Long Hair asked. One side of his lips tilted up so hard in disgust that it made his nose scrunch.

“As for the other thing, I’ve asked Benjamin the same thing,” Klaus said, rolling on past that last question. “He’s informed me that he literally can’t do anything without me, and that he loves me way too much to just ditch.”

“I did  _ not _ say that, you ass,” Ben huffed. “And like I’ve said a hundred times before,  _ Benjamin isn’t my name _ .”

“Not in so many words, Benny.” Klaus blinked. “Wait, it isn’t?”

Ben sighed heavily and Klaus’s lips curled like a cheshire cat.

“He really didn’t do all of . . . whatever that was earlier?” Leather Jacket asked.

“Gonna have to be more specific there,” Klaus said.

The men had another silent conversation. Long Hair scooted closer to the bed. “So the blue haze, the wailing hoard of ghosts, the blue pulsing in your arms . . . That was all you?”

Klaus’s eyebrows raised to his hairline. “Exsqueeze me, but what?”

Watching the kid have a one sided conversation was equal parts weird and entertaining. He seemed to be a ball of anxious and excitable energy, hopping from one point to the next faster than a rabbit. Whatever Ben said on the other end of the conversation just fueled the ramblings. It was cute.

Doesn’t mean it didn’t get annoying very, very quickly.

Sam was a straightforward person. Sure, he had more patience than Dean, and was usually able to get people to answer honestly to them by being sympathetic, but this kid . . . it was almost as if he was purposefully pushing buttons, testing boundaries. Possibly steering the conversation into his favor. Sam had to try really hard to stay focused on the point.

They touched something here, though. Sam glanced to Dean, who had straightened at looked back with wide eyes.

“Yeah, the freaky blue glowing stuff around your hands,” Dean eloquently put. Sam wanted to bury his face into his hands.

The kid just turned to his brother with a blank face. “Blue . . .”

He stopped, head just the slightest inclined. His brother was saying something to him. After a few seconds, his already pale face paled further, then went green. Sam stood, quickly grabbing a nearby trashcan just in case.

“I . . . What?” the kid gripped the hospital sheets to the point that they squeaked.

He listened again, breaths coming in quicker the longer the silence lasted.

“No. That’s impossible,” he denied. “I would know! I would . . .” His mouth dropped open, lips trembling, and no words escaping. “I don’t . . . Did the drugs . . .?”

A sharp inhale jerked him backwards.

“How? How, Ben?” His whispers sounded like a plea from a convicted man. He gasped and his hands flew up to his hair, yanking at the dark strands. “Oh no. No no no no no--Ben! Wh-What if dad finds out? He’s gonna--! I’m gonna end up--!”

The teen began to hyperventilate, eyes wide as he scrambled at the sheets to escape. “I gotta go. I gotta get as far away from here as possible. I gotta--I gotta--I just gotta--!”

“Whoa!” Dean lurched forward and grabbed the teen’s arm to keep him from moving. “Hold up, shortstack. You’re still hurt.”

“Let me go!” he shouted. “L-Let me go!”

The blue began to creep back into his arms through his veins. It looked like it was stemming from his heart. Sam narrowed his eyes.

“Stop! No! Not again!”

The wails picked up again.

“Dean! Let him go!” Sam grabbed his brother’s arm. “Give him space.”

Dean backed away, the kid falling to the floor in a heap. Shaking and crying, he didn’t attempt to move again. Rather, he curled tighter into himself and rocked back and forth. Sam’s heart twisted.

A blue form crouched beside the kid, vaguely in the shape of a person. “It’s okay, Klaus,” it was saying. “You’re okay, I promise. They can’t hurt you.  _ Dad _ can’t hurt you. He’s not anywhere near us, and he won’t be any time soon.”

With a start, Sam realized the figure must be  _ Ben _ . He took a small step back, mind boggled. This kid-- _ Klaus _ . . . just who was he?

“Dean, go get the salt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I recently got a new job, so I may not update frequently. I still really want to get into this story (I have many plans and changes to the Supernatural script now that Klaus and Ben are involved). This chapter may not have been the greatest, but I literally rewrote it five times and was still unhappy with it.


	4. You'll Just Have to Trust Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunters help the poor medium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were several moments where I like stroked out or something while writing this, lol. My fingers were typing faster than my brain could catch up and I had to backspace way too often. Guess that’s what happens when you’re exhausted.  
> So, I’m not very good at action, since I tend to write WAY too fast, and people can get lost. If this is the case, or it seems repetitive or predictable at points, I am so sorry.

“Watch him,” Dean ordered his younger brother. “If  _ they _ ,” he pointed to the hoard, “get too close, protect him.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m not a little kid, Dean. I know what I'm doing."

He smirked at his brother. "May not be a little kid, but you're a little bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean's grin widened and he slapped the doorframe twice on his way out. His good mood deflated as he came across a doctor on his way down the hall. Klaus's doctor.

"Ah, hello," Schuett greeted as he put his clipboard down. "Has John Doe woken yet?"

They must not have heard the screaming. Stellar performance, these guys. "Nope, not yet."

"I see," Schuett pursed his lips. "Well, I was just on my way to check on his vitals--"

"Actually," Dean said, throwing an arm over the man's shoulders and leading him further from the room. "I have a question. It's about this weird skin thing on my back. My friends say that it could be cancerous, but I don't really believe that . . ."

Ben huddled in close to his brother, praying that his voice would be able to reach him. Just before he tried a different tactic, this one insults, the living man with shaggy hair spoke up. Ben's hackles raised.

"Ben? My name is Sam Winchester." He knelt down to be at eye level with the brothers.

Ben gaped. Right. He wasn't used to people addressing him anymore. Unless it was Klaus, of course. So these two believed Klaus? That was a refreshing change, to be honest.

Then Sam's eyes locked directly onto his. Ben sucked in a sharp breath.

"I need you to snap Klaus out of his attack. The ghosts are getting agitated because he is. I think." Sam's eyes flicked to Klaus, then back to him. How was this possible?

_ Oh _ . It's  _ Klaus _ . Klaus and his  _ new powers _ . Wow.

Excitement fluttered in Ben's non-existent chest. If other people could see him . . . Could his family see him too? Would he be able to talk to them? Would they be able to  _ see _ him?

The possibilities were endless, swirling around in his mind like a whirlpool.

A sudden jerk from Klaus snapped him out of his thoughts, his imaginations vanishing in a flash. Right.

"Hey, Klaus, this guy thinks he can boss me around," Ben chuckled. It was hollow. "Sucks that I'm dead, otherwise I'd show him that  _ nobody _ messes with me, right?"

Klaus rocked back and forth, but the soft tilt of his head in Ben's direction gave him hope.

"Just like no one messes with you, because you've got me to tell them off."

Not much of a reaction. Fine.

“You remember when Diego tried to help mom cook in the kitchen? He somehow set fire to water, mom’s skirt, and the ceiling all in one go.”

Klaus's lips twitched the slightest bit. The rocking stopped. Shivers wracked his thin frame as the ghosts flickered briefly.

“Good job, Ben,” Sam said. “Keep going." The man shifted back to his feet. "Dean should be back soon . . ."

Ben gently reached out a hand to his brother, laying it on his shoulder. "He was such a dumbass. Somehow even worse than you."

Klaus was silent, frozen in place. His hazel eyes were wide and pinned right on Ben's hand.

Ben's hand. That was  _ touching  _ him.

"Ben?"

Ben was deathly (ha) still, eyes just as wide and mouth on the floor. "No way . . ."

"Ben!" Klaus lurched forward into Ben, knocking them both over. They didn't care. They were  _ hugging _ and it was  _ amazing _ .

Ben could feel him.  _ Really _ feel him. Even as he squeezed the life out of his brother, even as Klaus hugged back just as tightly, he could still feel him.

It was the best thing in the world.

Sam smiled at the brothers' hug. The ghosts were still a problem, and Klaus's hands still glowed blue, but it was a step in the right direction. Klaus trembled in his brother's grip, and Sam noticed Ben tighten his hold. They must have been dreaming of this moment for a long, long time.

The hunter sighed as he looked to the ghost hoard. It was . . . odd. They weren’t doing much, other than moaning and begging for help--that is, if they  _ could _ talk--and shambled in place. Sam didn’t even have to do anything, really, but he still kept an eye on them. Their eyes were fixed on Klaus, but they kept back as though coming closer would hurt them. Wary glances at Ben made Sam wonder just what was up with the dead brother.

The door to the room swung open, Dean striding in with a huge bag of sidewalk salt. He grinned and held up his prize.

Sam rolled his eyes. “What took you so long?”

Dean huffed and ripped the bag open. “Had to distract the doctor. He’s currently doing like five tests, two of which I will not be sharing with the class.”

The younger smirked.

"Don't even think about it," he said with a pointed finger.

Sam raised his hands in a sign of peace. Dean narrowed his eyes. The younger just smiled wider, and his brother rolled his eyes.

"Alright, how'd you wanna go about this?" Dean asked. "We've never had to deal with Casper the friendly ghost, and these guys seem to be feeding off of Klaus's emotions."

"Ben stays," Sam said immediately. "He's a calming force for Klaus. The hoard, though . . .”

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Follow my lead.”

Klaus held Ben tighter, never wanting to let go again. “Ben, Ben, Benny,  _ Ben _ .”

“Yeah, Klaus, this is really happening,” Ben whispered, sounding just as in awe. “I’m hugging you. You’re hugging me.”

“This is so  _ gay _ .”

Ben snorted and Klaus felt his brother’s hand curl into his hair, playing with the dark strands. “Leave the incest to One and Three, yeah?”

Klaus grinned, leaning into the comforting, familiar touch. “How long will this last?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” Ben answered honestly. He took a deep breath and let it go in a sigh, and Klaus actually felt his chest move. “But I want to treasure it.”

Klaus nodded, dislodging Ben’s hand for a moment before it went back to petting him.

“Ben?” a voice said to their side. Klaus barely turned his head to glance at the shaggy haired man (What did he say his name was again? Sal?) who knelt down again. “We’re going to run. The ghosts won’t be able to follow us . . . hopefully. Unless Klaus’s . . . gifts?--do something that allows them to pass the salt lines. Try not to get caught in the crossfire.” He gave them a big grin and shot back up to his feet.

“He’s like a puppy,” Klaus said to Ben. Ben huffed a laugh.

Klaus, with a bit of Ben’s help, stood and joined the two men. His head still hurt, and he was still terrified of what his dad might do if he ever found out what happened tonight, but he had Ben, so he could get through this.

“You both go ahead of us, we’ll keep the hoard at bay,” the shorter of the two said. He gestured for them to leave the room.

“What about the doctors?” Ben asked.

“Eh, who cares? I’m getting out of this stupid hospital sooner than I thought. Let’s go!” Klaus took Ben’s hand (he could grab his hand now!) and ran for the door. Larger footsteps echoed behind them, and the hoard of ghosts screamed in outrage as they took their escape.

Klaus was afraid to look back, the screams terrifyingly loud and way too close for comfort. Instead, he trusted the men he just met and booked it through the sterile halls.

Ben cackled.

Dean threw the salt down as fast as he could once Klaus and Ben were out of the room, Sam hurling chunks of the stuff at the hoard to give Dean some time. They did  _ not _ like that, already mad faces becoming murderous.

Sam gripped Dean’s jacket and pulled him back as a clawed hand reached out, just about taking his head clean off. He was nicked in the arm for his troubles.

The hunters ran after the younger brothers, the ghosts following behind near single file due to the small space they could crawl through that Dean wasn’t able to cover.

“Just how many people did you piss off, kid?” Dean shouted as he threw more salt down to slow them further.

“I have no idea who any of these people are!” Klaus yelped ahead of them. Dean glanced up to see Klaus knock over Doctor Schuett. The doctor fell to the floor with a heavy thud, his clipboard going flying. “Sorry!”

The doctor blinked several times, trying to process the scene before him.

Dean rolled his eyes and called to Sam. “Sammy! Grab the iron crowbar from our gear. We’ll lock ‘em in!”

Sam nodded and took off ahead of everyone. His much longer legs helped in overtaking everyone, even though Klaus was also pretty lanky.

Doctor Schuett watched as they ran past him, eyes impossibly wide at the stumbling crowd of ghosts that chased them. Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at the look on the guy’s face.

Once Klaus and Ben were past the sealed double doors, Dean threw down one last line of salt and followed. He dumped the now empty bag on one of the chairs outside.

“Now what?” Klaus asked through huffing breaths.

“Wait for Sam to get back with the iron. Then we haul ass.”

“Awesome,” the boy grinned.

The double doors shuddered as hundreds of ghosts slammed against it, trying to get to them beyond the line of salt. Mangled faces and bloody hands crowded the windows until the hallway where they had come from was blocked by howling masses.

“Come on, Sammy . . .”

Klaus jumped when the doors jolted with a loud bang, the salt line still barely holding up.

Ben gripped Dean’s jacket, something shifting beneath his clothes.

Moans and screams penetrated their ears, snarls and harsh words thrown at them. Hatred permeated the air. The poor receptionist fainted.

The lights flickered overhead. The room chilled, Klaus’s and Dean’s breaths fogging before their faces.

Another shudder, the salt line almost broken through.

“Got it!”

Sam suddenly shoved his way to the doors, iron crowbar in hand. He crammed it between the handles and stepped back. The wailing continued, but the attempts at the doors stopped.

“Come on,” Dean gestured for them to follow.

Ben sat next to Klaus in the back of the stolen car, hands still held tightly together. Klaus was beginning to look exhausted, like, Five-overworking-his-ability levels of exhausted. Absolutely drained and sickly looking. Ben worried that he might throw up soon. He squeezed his hand.

His brother gave him a shaky smile in return. “I’m alright. Just . . . tired.”

Ben nodded and gazed at his brother’s still-glowing blue hands. “Do you know how to turn that off?”

“You think I know anything about this?” He lifted their joined hands.

Ben bit his lip.

“Alright, we’re taking you back to where we found you,” Sam piped up from the front.

Klaus raised his brows. “The motel? Sure. Well, but honestly, you could just drop me off anywhere and that would be fine.”

Sam’s brows came together, but Dean spoke. “What about home? Where is that for you? Won’t there be people that would be worried if you don’t get home?”

Klaus and Ben shared a look before they both burst into hysterics. “Worried? Nah, if they were worried at all, they would have went searching for me a long time ago.” Klaus shrugged and looked out the window. “Hell, I’ve been living on the streets for months now and there haven’t even been missing posters.”

Sam looked back at that, while Dean glanced through the rearview mirror. “What? No one has been worried for you at all? You’ve been  _ homeless _ ?”

“How long,  _ exactly, _ have you been out there?” Dean asked.

Klaus shrugged. Ben said, “Three months, give or take. It’s December, right? I died a few days before our sixteenth birthday. So . . . yeah, maybe a little longer than three months.”

The men had tons of questions burning behind their eyes, Ben could see it. Sam settled on, “So . . . where should we take you?”

Klaus grinned mischievously. “Honestly, I couldn’t care less. Somewhere I can get a hit. You drop me off, and I’ll be on my merry way, never to be seen in your lives again.” He snapped his fingers. “By the way, thanks for the salt tip. I will  _ definitely _ be using that to keep the nasty ghosties away.”

Dean frowned and pulled off to the side of the road. He turned around in his seat and narrowed his eyes at Klaus. “There is no way in hell that we are letting you go off and get drugged up again.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Oh,  _ please _ , save the lecture. Daddy dearest has given me plenty. ‘ _ You’re useless like this, Number Four.’ ‘You’ll get everyone killed if you keep this up, Number Four.’ ‘You can’t use your powers if you continue down this path,  _ Number Four.’” Klaus waved a hand in the air as he pretended to be Reginald.

“Number Four?” Sam asked.

Klaus grinned. “Yep! Pleasure to meet you both.” He held out his free hand. “Number Four, Klaus Hargreeves, at your service.”

Ben did the same with his free hand. “Number Six, Ben Hargreeves.”

“Awe, Benny, I love it when you catch on to my charms.”

“Shut up, idiot.”

The men ignored the hands, looking flabbergasted. “What, were you two part of an experiment or something?” Dean asked.

Klaus shrugged and took his hand back, Ben tucking his into his pocket. “Pretty much. Ol’ Reggie bought seven of us from our mothers and studied us. He trained us to be ‘superheroes’.” He used quotation gestures with his fingers. “Sucks for him that not all of us had powers that would help him in his plan to stop the end of the world or whatever.”

“Yeah, he would never win the ‘Father of the Year’ Award,” Ben agreed.

Sam and Dean looked appalled by the information. “So you’re number four on the list of children he  _ bought _ ,” Sam pointed, “and you’re number six?”

Klaus nodded.

“Powers?” Dean asked.

“Yeah!” Klaus beamed and held up his glowing hand. It was beginning to fade, just as Klaus’s eyes looked to be dimming further. The circles under his eyes grew darker. “I see dead people,” he said in a dramatic voice.

“I have interdimensional monsters in my chest,” Ben said. “Or, I used to, while I was still alive. They’re still here, but . . . they’re more muted, you could say.”

They gaped at the boys. Ben snorted. “Yeah. We’re the furthest thing from normal.”

Klaus nodded. “So, if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll just be on my way.” He reached for the handle, prepared to step out of the car.

“Hold it!” Dean grabbed Klaus’s wrist. Klaus froze. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Ben tensed. What did that mean? Were they suddenly going to turn on them? Were they going to send Klaus somewhere bad? Were they planning on doing something to Klaus? Klaus seemed to be having the same thoughts as Ben, hazel eyes flicking towards him in panic.

Sam rolled his eyes. “What this idiot means is that we won’t let you out just so you can live on the streets again.”

“And we’re not taking you back to your . . . ‘Reggie’, again,” Dean added.

Ben slowly relaxed. “Really?”

They nodded.

Klaus huffed. “Look, thanks, but no thanks--”

“I think you should listen to them, Klaus,” Ben interrupted.

Klaus’s wide eyes turned on Ben. “What? No! Where else would I go but the streets or dear old dad’s place?”

“You can come with us,” Dean said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to The_Wandering_Mage for the small comment from Sam about Klaus’s powers allowing ghosts to cross salt lines. I love it when people comment stuff that gets me thinking. I might use this idea again at another time for something that happens to Ben.  
> Thanks for the comments and kudos! I legit re-read all comments given. It motivates me to continue, knowing people are actually into this story.


	5. They Call Me the Freak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road trip begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to post this yesterday, but I couldn't due to a party (Happy Birthday me)  
> Anyway, since there was a slight delay, I'm posting it now with 1000 extra words than normal. Is it good? Idk. You tell me.

Klaus thought for a second that he had water in his ears. “Sorry? Try that again.”

Sam looked just as confused.

“Come with us,” Dean repeated. Klaus glanced to his brother, but Ben only had his brows furrowed.

“Klaus . . . That’s up to you.”

“Oh, come on, Ben. You’re my voice of reason.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not. I’m your brother.”

Klaus stuck out his tongue. “You’re no fun.”

“Dean.” Sam used his eyes to speak. Klaus found that he was beginning to get annoyed by that. With a sigh, Dean shook his head.

“Klaus,” Dean said, drawing his attention back. “You can come with us. At least until we get you to a safe place.”

Klaus bit his lip. On one hand, he could go back to the way things were, living on the streets, getting the next high, never knowing when he’d have a roof over his head or a meal in his stomach, and he’d live his life like the trash he is. Or . . . He could learn more things about the ghosts, like the salt trick that they used earlier. He wasn’t too sure which option was the better one.

His mind screamed the gutter, but his heart screamed the road.

Another look at Ben and he knew his choice was obvious.

“Well, I always did like road trips.”

An hour into the drive and Klaus was passed out in the back. Literally. His glowing hands must have been the cause, since he had no idea how to turn them off, and he had begun to look increasingly tired the longer it continued. Ben had tried to help him, but in the end just held on tight until Klaus was out and the ghost disappeared. Sam wasn’t too worried, having checked his breathing already and positioning him in a more comfortable place.

The conversation they had in the car circled around in his mind as they drove. It was . . . really freaking weird to learn about Ben and Klaus. Their childhood was worse than his and Dean’s, which was quite a feat to achieve. Learning that both, and more children like them, had some kind of superpowers hit a little too close to home for Sam. It made him uncomfortable, and he wanted to talk to them about it in private later. Could it be possible that he was like them? If so, had he gotten lucky in not becoming one of Reginald Hargreeves’ experiments?

Of course, the hunters also shared what they did for a living with the teens.

“ _ You drive around the place and hunt monsters? That’s so cool! What kind of monsters are out there? Are they anything like Ben’s monsters? Would you have hunted Ben? Sorry, but I wouldn’t have let that fly. Wait, you won’t try to hunt him  _ now _ , right? Because then this deal is off. _ ”

Dean was unnerved at the ghost in the back of the car, and in a way, Sam was too. They had had it drilled into their heads since they were young that all supernatural creatures were evil and were trying to kill them. Nothing was good or pure in the world, especially if it went bump in the night.

But Ben . . . Sam was finding that Ben was different from the other ghosts. Perhaps it was because of Klaus’s abilities, perhaps it was something else. He wasn’t sure. 

Ben had been pretty interested in what they had to say, while Klaus went down tangents they hadn’t even seen coming. He was a different kind of interesting in and of himself. Nothing about him was logical, which frustrated Sam to no end.

Lucky for Sam and Dean, Ben kept up just fine and would help in translation if needed. Sometimes very literally, since Klaus would switch languages every now and again, especially with words that were specific to that language that made sense in the context to him. Sam hoped they could see Ben again, for more reasons than one.

On the one hand, having Ben there was good for Klaus, and in helping the hunters understand Klaus. On the other . . . he was just a fun guy to talk to. He was much more mature than Klaus, and had a good head on his shoulders. He liked to read, and he and Sam got along well on that front. From what Sam could tell, Ben had been taking care of Klaus during his time on the streets. He didn’t think Klaus could have taken care of himself for so long without his brother’s influence.

During the quiet that circled through the car, Sam had somehow fallen asleep. He didn’t realize he did until Dean was shaking his shoulder awake. Sunlight filtered through the car windows and directly into his eyes. He hissed.

“Dean? What time is it?” he groaned. That was the best sleep he had had in weeks. Too bad it ended so soon.

“Almost nine,” Dean replied. “We’re at the airport. Wake the kid while I get our stuff.”

Sam nodded, leaning behind him to shake Klaus awake.

“Wha?” Klaus startled, disoriented and prepared to fight back. It was a flimsy attempt, and Sam found it oddly endearing. They would definitely need to help him with his reflexes.

Klaus sat up and glared at the sunlight peeking through the windows. "No. Too early. Wake me when it's noon at least."

Sam huffed a grin, shaking his head. "We've made it to our first destination of the day. You can go back to sleep once we change cars."

"Ooo, it's like we're in a spy movie. Or we're running from the cops."

"Well, lucky for us neither is the case. Just getting back into our own vehicle."

"Ah, so you stole this one because . . .?"

Sam shrugged. "It's easier. That, and we don't buy a lot of big stuff unless absolutely necessary."

Klaus looked at him funny.

"What?" he asked.

"Easier? To steal a car?" He paused--listening to Ben, Sam has figured out. "Yeah, Ben agrees that that makes zero sense."

Sam sighed. "Well, hunting isn't really a paid job. We get by on stolen credit cards."

Klaus gasped dramatically. "Really? You guys are just as illegal as I've always been."

Sam wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but went with it anyway. Klaus hopped over to the Impala just as Dean took the front seat.

Sam ducked down into the car as the classic turned over with a growl. His muscles relaxed without him realizing they were tense. He was home.

"Alright. To Sioux Falls!"

"Whoa, where's that?" Klaus's eyes widened. "And why are we going there again?"

"We're gonna take you to an old friend of ours. Bobby." Sam explained. "He'll be able to help you in our place."

"Wait, wait, I thought I was coming with you guys." His brows furrowed. "Where will you go once I get to Bobby's?"

Sam glanced to Dean, who had tightened his hands around the wheel. Dean let out a long sigh.

"Look, Klaus. We don't have anything against you coming with us out on hunts--"

"But you guys are purposefully leaving me out." Klaus slumped back in his seat, lip puckered. "I knew it. You guys think I'm useless."

"It's not that . . ." Dean started.

Klaus waved a hand. "No, no, I get it. You don't want me out on a hunt. It's fine." He folded his arms and stared out the window.

" _ Clearly _ it isn't," Dean shot back. "Look. We can't have you be a liability on a hunt," Klaus winced at the wording. "You'd need training first, a knowledge of all the stuff we fight. If you get hurt, that's on us. We don't need to deal with that."

Klaus put up a small smile (Sam thought it looked a bit forced), and relaxed further into his seat. "Alright. I getcha. Drive on, mein freund."

Dean hesitated for a moment, then pulled out of the parking spot. They abandoned the stolen car, knowing it would probably pop up on police interface now that it was morning.

Despite the fact that Sam felt for Klaus, he also agreed with Dean. It was too dangerous for Klaus to just hop on the hunting train with them when he was clueless to that kind of stuff. Besides, he just came from the hospital and needed time to get better.

Sam just hoped that the small trust gained wouldn't be thrown out due to this decision.

Driving through the midwest was boring. Driving while it was near silent was boring. Driving while knowing that he was about to be dropped off at a stranger's house for an undetermined amount of time was frustrating.

Did everyone just assume that Klaus couldn't do anything?

His siblings did, all the time, assigning him to be the lookout while they did all the work. Reginald did, stating that Klaus was the greatest disappointment of the academy. Hell, even  _ Ben _ did--when he was alive, that is.

To sum up, Klaus felt like he was the most useless person in the world, and that the universe just had to remind him every five seconds.

They stopped at a motel somewhere in Ohio, deciding to catch a few z's since they were all running on fumes. It wasn't a great motel, perhaps a little nicer than the one Klaus was kidnapped from (he appreciated the windows that still had glass and the cleaning job they did), but the ghosts were still an issue. One was right next to him, moaning about how someone tortured them to death in one of the rooms and going into  _ explicit _ detail about what happened.

"My nails . . . They put bamboo shoots under my nails and let them grow . . ." The ghost mumbled. "Cuts, so many cuts that drew blood; it burned, it burned! They burned away my eyelids! I can't see!"

Ben was trying to play buffer, but Klaus still held his hands to his ears.

"Man, what I wouldn't do for a bit of weed right now."

Ben gave him a disappointed glance, while Sam and Dean looked on incredulously.

"Okay, yeah, no," Dean placed a hand on his shoulder. Determination shone through his eyes. "If you're gonna hang out with us, no drugs. Not even pain killers, unless  _ absolutely necessary _ ."

Klaus frowned and folded his arms. "You don't get it. Try living with ghosts constantly surrounding you and screaming their heads off. I can't just turn this power off and on! The only thing that gets them to stop is the drugs."

Ben gave him a sad look. "Klaus . . ."

Dean shook his head. "I don't care--"

"Wow,  _ ouch _ ," Klaus put a hand to his chest.

"--we have other ways to get them to stop," the hunter continued. "Like the salt. Iron. Burning the bones.  _ Tons _ of other options. I don't want you going near drugs again. You got me?"

Klaus raised a brow. "Burning the bones?" He glanced to Ben. "Ben was cremated. He's still around."

Dean seemed uncomfortable about the mention of Ben, eyes flicking to where Klaus had looked. Huh.

Sam opened his laptop as he settled for the night. "That sometimes happens. Do you have an object that Ben might have loved with you? His soul is probably attached to it."

He shook his head. "No. I left the house with the clothes on my back and a few dollars."

The hunters furrowed their brows and looked to each other.

"Is it because of your powers, do you think?" Sam asked him.

Klaus huffed. "Let me be honest with you. I have  _ no idea _ how my powers work. For as much as dear ol' dad loved to train me, we both had no idea what to do about them. I drugged myself up to keep the nasty ghosts away, and he just kinda gave up on reprimanding me."

Dean straightened himself and squeezed Klaus's shoulder to get him back on track. Which was kinda funny, since he derailed the original conversation flawlessly. "Is Ben  _ always _ around? He never leaves?"

"Trust me," Klaus grinned. "I've tried to get him to leave several times. He refuses to leave my side."

"Even if he wants to do something else? What about tangibility? Can he hurt people?"

"He hasn't hurt anyone since he was alive," Klaus's face darkened. "And he didn't  _ want _ to hurt anyone. Reginald forced him to use his powers."

Dean held up his hands in surrender. “I just need to know if he’s dangerous.”

Klaus huffed. “Oh, he was plenty dangerous when alive. Now that he’s dead, he’s nothing but air.”

Ben did not look happy by that comment, but he didn’t interrupt. Klaus ignored the twinge of guilt.

“Ghosts are still able to hurt people,” Dean pointed out. “Just because he’s dead doesn’t mean he’s not still here.”

“I know that. He’s been with me since the day he died,” Klaus felt his eyes sting. “And he won’t be hurting anyone, because he’s the best person in the entire  _ world _ . He would never do anything to harm someone, not by his own choice.”

“Klaus . . .”

“Can you be sure of that?” Dean asked. “Can you be absolutely certain that your brother would never hurt someone?”

“100%,” Klaus sat on the bed. “Don’t you  _ ever _ assume anything different.”

Sam had been silent the whole time, but now he spoke up from his place at the small table. "Klaus . . ." He licked his lips, hesitating. "You should get some sleep."

Klaus nodded. The day had been exhausting, and all he wanted was to lie down and never get up again. "Go away," he told the ghost in the corner, though he knew it wouldn't listen. Sam and Dean gave him funny looks until they realized he wasn’t talking to them.

"My eyes . . . My fingers . . .!"

He sighed and gingerly curled up at the bottom of the bed as though moving hurt, not caring about a pillow or blanket.

"Get some rest, Klaus," Ben said softly. "I'll be here to keep you safe."

Klaus drifted asleep.

Sam typed away at his laptop after having pulled a blanket around Klaus’s way too thin shoulders, exhausted but afraid to sleep. Visions of Jessica pinned to the ceiling kept him up, guilt and anger and pain eating away at him.

"What should we do about Ben?" Dean asked as he cleaned his gun. Sam was grateful for the distraction. He wasn't getting anywhere online anyways. "I don't think he should stay, both for Klaus's sake and his own sanity."

"What do you want us to do? Klaus needs him. And he said he doesn't have anything of Ben's. I don't want to hurt him."

"I don't either," Dean said immediately. "I just . . . If he stays here for too long, he's going to go crazy. It would be painful for Klaus. That, and it's highly possible that he'd accidentally hurt Klaus out of a fit of insanity."

Sam sighed and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "I don't think there's a whole lot we  _ can _ do, really. I think the only way for Ben to move on would be for Klaus to let him go."

"You think Klaus is keeping him here unintentionally?"

Sam shrugged. "It's possible. He said it himself: he has no idea how powerful he really is. There's a ton of stuff he could be capable of. Why wouldn't he be able to do that much?"

Dean sighed and put his gun back together in record time. "I don't know, man. This whole thing is weird. We've never encountered  _ anything _ like this before. Superpowers? That's something out of freakin' comic books."

Sam smirked. "Well, the way we live, you don't think it's possible?"

Dean grumbled and stood up. "You know what? I'm going to read through Dad's journal. Maybe he's got something on all of this."

"Alright. I'll keep scouring the internet for anything nearby."

Dean pointed a finger at him. "I want you to  _ sleep _ ."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I will. Later."

"I'll hold you to that."

Sam watched as his brother grabbed the journal and flopped across the second bed, not bothering to change out of his clothes or taking off his shoes, then started to flip through the pages.

It's not like they were trying to get rid of Ben . . . Okay, maybe a bit. It was freaky that they were travelling around with one of their sworn enemies. Ben was odd, however. He didn’t fit in like the other ghosts. He was sane. He was capable of feelings and ideas. He was still  _ him. _

That, and they warmed up to him and Klaus pretty fast during the long drive. 

Sam had met one other monster that was like Ben--kind and near  _ human _ . He had let her go. Could he do the same for Ben? 

In Amy’s case, though, Sam vowed that if he ever met her again in similar circumstances, he wouldn’t be as forgiving. Not having to see her and turning a blind eye was different than actually teaming up with a monster.

Sam had no idea what to do.

"Sam."

Dean's gruff voice brought Sam out of his musings. His brother slid off the bed and turned the journal around so Sam could see what it read.

"Dad made an entry about Klaus and his siblings."

Sam leaned in closer to get a better look.

"' _ October 1, 1989, 43 children were born at the same exact time. The mothers had not been pregnant at the beginning of the day. _ '"

Sam scrunched his nose. "That's super weird."

Dean nodded and went on. "' _ Most of the children were hunted, due to the fact that they were unknown and, upon closer inspection, had abilities that brought about terror. Seven escaped. I'll keep an eye out for them. I hope they don't bring about terrible catastrophes. _ '"

Sam clenched his jaw. "Klaus and Ben were lucky." He looked to Dean. "Do you think they're still being hunted?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. I hope not. From what I can see, they're normal kids that just have a bit of a supernatural twist." He looked conflicted. "I still want to keep an eye on Klaus. Dad wrote down this stuff for a reason."

Sam gave Dean a grim smile. "All the more reason to keep him around."

Dean shot him a weak grin back. "And look." Dean pointed to a newspaper clipping. "A newspaper with the  _ Umbrella Academy _ on the front page. Sir Reginald Hargreeves and his seven little superheroes."

"They actually put  _ Sir _ as his title? Who does he think he is, the king?"

That got a big smile from Dean. "Guess the guy is as egotistical as Klaus said."

"So, you gonna ask Bobby for more details about the 43 children?" Sam pulled up a new search window.

"'Course. Gotta know all we can about that, and make sure no one else is still going after Klaus."

Sam nodded. "Good plan." He paused, brows furrowed as he read what popped up in his news feed. "Dean . . ."

"What?"

"There's a hunt. Here. In Ohio."


	6. No One Can Feel It For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt begins!

Worry filled Ben the longer he listened to the hunter's conversation. At first, it had been outrage. Hadn't Klaus already told them that he wouldn't hurt anyone?

But then they started getting into how Ben might accidentally  _ hurt _ Klaus, how the longer he stayed with Klaus the faster he became insane. Ben had seen the older ghosts, the ones that followed Klaus around for years. He knew  _ exactly _ what the hunters meant by crazy.

Would he end up like that if he continued to stay with Klaus? Would he lose his sense of self? Would he become one of the very things that tormented his brother?

That alone scared him. He didn’t want to be one of those  _ things _ . 

He didn’t want to end up hurting his brother.

He decided that, until he could come to a decision, he wouldn’t discuss with Klaus what he had overheard. That both gave him time to think and time for Klaus to weedle some more information about how to get rid of ghosts. Because, yeah, this was his shot at a normal, healthy life, as screwed up as it all was, and Ben wasn’t about to ruin that just yet.

Ben needed his brother to be okay, for once. He wanted this all to work out and for the hunters to keep their word in making sure Klaus stayed away from drugs.

Speaking of the hunters, they were currently packing their things, anxious to leave for a hunt while Klaus was a giant ball of excitable energy. 

“What are we going to hunt? Is it a werewolf? Are those a thing? Are they really hairy like everyone says?”

“You,” Dean cut him off as he placed a hand on his shoulder, effectively getting the teen to stop jittering, “are going to  _ stay in the car _ .”

Klaus deflated. “What? Why? I thought you said you couldn’t drop me off at Bobby’s so I’d be going with you.”

“Yes, you’ll be coming along because we don’t have enough time for the back and forth. But you’ll be safe and sound in the car while  _ we _ ,” he gestured to himself and Sam, “will take care of this.”

“That’s not fair!” Klaus whined. He looked like a child to Ben. “Can’t you at least tell me what it is? Maybe I can be more helpful than you think!”

“We don’t know what it is yet,” Sam said. “We want to be extra cautious, Klaus.”

“If you don’t know what it is, then how do you know it’s a hunt?”

“Because of the article,” Sam said, turning his laptop around for Klaus to see. On it, a man who looked to be in his forties smiled back at them, the name  _ Steven Shoemaker _ in bolded letters below the picture.

Klaus raised a brow. “What about it?”

“The daughter said his eyes were bleeding when she found him.” Dean huffed. “Perfectly healthy man before his death, might I add.”

“It sounds like a stretch to me . . .” Klaus pursed his lips.

“You think that maybe the bleeding eyes was more than that?” Ben asked. Klaus translated for him.

The hunters nodded. “A little blood from the eyes doesn’t kill a man, not right away. No, something else happened that resulted in bleeding eyes.” Sam closed his laptop and slid it into his bag.

“So, what do you think happened to him?”

“That’s what we’re gonna find out,” Dean grinned.

Klaus hated being in the car already. Sam and Dean were inside the morgue, pretending to ask about the body for a “school paper”. Klaus wanted to join in, see the hunters in action.  _ Anything _ but be out here, bored to tears.

“Benny,” Klaus whined. His brother looked at him, irritated.

“What?”

“I’m bored. Tell me a story?”

Ben frowned and looked out the window. “No. Not right now.”

Klaus snorted. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Nothing. I just don’t wanna talk right now.”

Klaus got closer into Ben’s space, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Ben . . .  _ Ben _ . . . Beeeeeeeen . . .”

Ben growled. “Klaus--”

The sudden screams of an approaching ghost startled the pair, Klaus leaping in his seat and whirling towards the noise.

Coming out of the hospital was the man the hunters were looking at right now, his ghost wailing and scratching at his eyes. Or . . . at least, where his eyes  _ had _ been. Blood drained from empty sockets like a waterfall, dripping into his mouth and down his prim shirt. Black lines trailed along his cheeks to the eyes and down past his collar like spider webs. Klaus shivered. He’d never seen anyone like  _ that _ before.

The ghost moaned, trying to keep his blood from spilling further. It was never ending.

“Klaus . . .” Ben whispered, fearful. “Can you . . . uh . . . do anything about him?”

“Well, according to you, I’m not allowed drugs, so  _ what do you want me to do _ ?” Klaus hissed.

Ben shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know! Try sending him away.”

“That’s never worked before!”

“You’re sober now and can manifest ghosts! Just try! Before he notices us.”

Klaus sighed and held up a hand, focusing all of his energy into sending the ghost . . . wherever it is ghosts end up. He doesn’t know. Do they just disappear? Fade into nothing? Or maybe he could send them to the other side of the world. That would be nice.

Sweat beaded on Klaus’s brow, and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. His hand began to shake from the effort. It didn’t feel like it had when he caused all those ghosts to appear in the real world, that overflowing power at his fingertips that he could feel gushing out from his middle, free at last.

“You look like you’re constipated.”

“Shut up, you prick.”

“Focus, Klaus.”

“I am focusing.”

“Then why is nothing happening?”

Klaus threw his hands into the air. “Like I know! Dad never helped me learn to use my powers, he just threw me at the ghosts and said, ‘have fun’.”

Ben raised a brow. “But you should have  _ some _ clue, right?” When Klaus gave him a deadpanned look, Ben went on. “It’s literally your  _ thing _ . You’re the expert on your own power. Not dad. Not me. Not Sam or Dean.  _ You _ .”

“Easy for you to say. I don’t even know what all my powers can do. I don’t even know if I’ve unlocked all my powers.”

“Well, all the more reason that you’ll be able to do this much, right?”

“But I don’t even know where to  _ start _ ,” Klaus put his face in his hands. “What do I  _ do _ , Benny?”

“You stop feeling sorry for yourself and send the ghost away,” Ben said, as serious as he could get. Klaus would know; he used his serious voice.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“It will work.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Ben smiled. “Because it’s you, dummy.”

Klaus pretended he didn't feel absolutely gushy inside because of that.

A chill ran down Klaus’s spine, and his head snapped up to the ghost still outside the car. His eyeless gaze was fixed right on him.

“Help me,” the man pleaded. “Help me! She did this! Help me please!”

Klaus scrambled further into the seat. “I can’t do this!”

“You can. I know you can!”

“G-Go away!” He shouted, throwing his arm out to stop the ghost.

The man barreled towards him with a wail. “Help me!”

Klaus closed his eyes, heart jackhammering against his ribs. “Go away! Go away, please!”

“Klaus--!”

He was back. Stone. Hundreds of faces. Dead dead dead. It was cold, so cold. He can’t escape, he can’t  _ breathe _ . No no no. Go  _ away _ . Go away!

Klaus  _ screamed _ .

Something pulled at his gut.  _ Hard. _ His scream was choked off as pain flared from where his bellybutton lie and spread all throughout his body. Chilled talons squeezed his heart. He was going to die. Dead dead dead  _ dead _ \--

And then, silence.

Klaus could hear his own breathing. Klaus could hear birds singing in the trees. Klaus has never been able to hear those things before, not unless he was high out of his mind.

It was beautiful.

“Ben, I did it . . .”

"Klaus, you're bleeding!" Ben yelped.

“What?” Klaus looked down, patting himself but not seeing anything. “Where?”

“Your nose is gushing blood," Ben stated, bewildered. "Are you okay?"

Klaus shrugged, wiping at his nose. It didn't do much, other than make his hand soaked. Ben was right, it  _ was _ gushing. And getting all over his new clothes.

"Ben!" He whined.

Ben shrugged helplessly. "What do you want me to do about it? I'm dead."

Klaus sighed dramatically. "I don't know, look for a tissue or somethi--"

The doors opened and Klaus squealed.

“Alright. Let’s go talk to the daughter,” Sam said as they exited the hospital. They were met with a sunny morning breeze, birds chirping in the trees. Sam could see Klaus vaguely in the Impala, waving his arms around animatedly. The younger hunter smirked. The kid always looked so funny when he was talking. So full of energy and  _ life _ .

To be honest, the brothers needed that in their lives right now.

The hunters opened the doors to the Impala and were met with a girly squeal from Klaus. Dean laughed, head thrown back and all. Sam just chuckled, hopping into the front seat.

"Klaus, you--"

He froze, the sight in the back chilling him. Klaus’s nose dripped blood, as did his ears. It looked like a murder scene, crimson soaking through everything. He looked deathly pale, but he was awake and coherent. Sam lurched for the tissues while Dean swore loudly.

“What the hell happened? You were supposed to stay in the car!” Dean shouted as Sam dabbed at Klaus's face.

"I did. Mister Shoemaker decided to pay a visit."

Sam stilled, the implications of what Klaus had said sinking in. "Steve Shoemaker?"

"The dead guy who's eyes were liquified?" Dean added.

"That's the one," Klaus gave them finger guns.

"Did he say anything to you?"

"Well, other than begging for help, he mentioned a woman?"

Sam rolled his hand for him to continue. Klaus shook his head. "That's all I got from him before I sent him away."

Dean frowned. "Sent him away? Why would you do that? We needed the info!"

Klaus frowned. "He was  _ terrifying _ . That, and once he had spotted me he  _ ran _ at me. I don't know if you understand this, but this is a huge thing for me. I got rid of a ghost!"

Sam decided to play peacemaker and held up his hands, one full of bloody tissue. He knew his brother, and Dean was  _ not _ happy about this, both because of Klaus’s blood continuing to drip down his chin and because they lost a really good lead. "Klaus, I'm glad you were able to do something you've never been able to do. The reason Dean is upset is because we don't know when the monster will attack next, or who it will attack. Having a ghost literally talking to you about what happened is kind of a big deal, and could have really helped us."

Klaus folded his arms with a pout. "Well, you guys wanted me to stay in the car."

Sam sighed. "Yes . . . That's our fault."

Klaus perked up. "Does that mean that I can leave the car?"

"No," Dean said.

Klaus threw his arms into the air. "Well, then, what do you want me to do? Help you, or stay put?"

Sam glanced to Dean, the other man worrying his lip in thought. Sam knew that Dean wanted Klaus to stay safe, but Sam thought that Klaus would be  _ extremely _ helpful if he had enough time and practice with his powers.

"Fine," Dean relented. "But only for the small stuff. No dangerous crap until you have some knowledge under your belt.  _ Especially  _ if you don't have your powers under control."

The smile Klaus gave was blinding, and Sam discovered it was contagious. "Hell yeah! You hear that, Ben? We're gonna be hunters!"

Sam heard Dean quietly mutter under his breath, "If he's gonna get in trouble  _ while in the car _ , you can bet that I'm gonna get one too many headaches with this kid."

The Shoemaker home was a modest two story, white picket fence type of place. The kind of place that Klaus and Ben dreamed about when they were little, instead of the cold mansion they were raised in. The inside was homey and warm, and everything the two boys had never had. Klaus smiled.

“Feel like we’re underdressed,” Dean huffed, glancing down at their casual clothes. They  _ were _ , considering the house was filled with guests for the wake. Especially Klaus, considering he wore one of Dean’s t-shirts and drawstring pants.

Klaus just shrugged. Not much they could do about it now.

They were directed to Shoemaker’s daughter, Donna, and Dean and Sam did what they did best: lie their asses off and hope the person they wanted intel from bought it.

“We worked with your dad.”

“You did?” Donna looked skeptical at that, eyes directed at Klaus, but Dean steamrolled over it.

“Yeah. This whole thing--” the man shook his head, looking remorseful. Klaus had to hand it to them. They were decent actors. Not Allison’s level, but then again they weren’t trained in the ways of acting from Reginald’s money-hungry teachers. “I mean, a stroke.”

“I don’t think she wants to talk about this right now,” the blonde girl to Donna’s right said. Klaus pursed his lips. She seemed like a good friend, someone loyal.

Yet, why did she have a ghost following her?

He was a suicide ghost, Klaus realized. He blinked, surprised that the knowledge just  _ appeared _ to him, in his mind. It was weird. Klaus could just  _ tell _ . Although, the rope burns around his neck could also have been an indication.

Interesting. Brother? Boyfriend? He leaned more towards the latter since the ghost kept mumbling and trying to touch the girl’s hair in a gentle manner. Though, Allison and Luther were like that too, so who was he to judge?

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” Donna assured.

“Were there ever any symptoms?” Dean asked after a moment. “Dizziness? Migraines?”

“No.”

“That’s because it wasn’t a stroke,” the little girl to Donna’s left said, spinning around in her seat. She had been wanting to say something the entire time, guilt clear on her features.

“Lily, don’t say that,” Donna reprimanded.

“What?” Sam urged the girl on.

“I’m sorry,” Donna shook her head and gave them all a tight smile. “She’s just upset.”

“No, it happened because of me,” Lily insisted.

“Sweetie, it didn’t.”

Sam moved around so he could kneel beside the girl. “Lily. Why would you say something like that?”

“Right before he died . . .” Lily gulped. “I said it.”

Klaus frowned.

“You said what?” Sam’s eyebrows rose in sympathy.

“Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror,” Lily admitted. “She took his eyes; that’s what she does.”

“That’s not why dad died. This isn’t your fault.”

“I think your sister’s right, Lily,” Dean gave the girl a small smile. “There’s no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Mean, your dad didn’t say it, did he?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed in on Lily to see her reaction.

“No . . . I don’t think so.”

Dean nodded his head, then jerked his head back the way they came. Sam gave a subtle nod.

They excused themselves and went back into the house. Sam and Dean turned to Klaus, and the boy perked.

“Alright, any thoughts to share?” Dean asked kindly enough. Klaus was just excited that they wanted his opinion.

“The blonde girl had a ghost following her,” Klaus reported. He was vaguely reminded of his childhood, having to report all that happened on a mission to his father.  _ It’s not the same _ , he reminded himself,  _ these are friends, not dictators _ .

The hunters catalogued the information away to open for another time. Sam asked, “What about the Bloody Mary thing? Are we going to look into that?”

_ We _ . Klaus’s stomach filled with butterflies at that word. He was part of a  _ team _ , that actually found him  _ useful _ .

Ben piped up from Klaus’s left, “I think it’s worth a shot. Who knows, with all the stuff they’ve told us about, it’s possible.”

Klaus nodded. “Ben and I agree that it’s something to look into.”

The hunters nodded. Now that they had a direction, they could do the real digging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit rushed, but I just wanted it out of the way so I could get to more of the good stuff. I did use the lines straight from the show (because I am unoriginal sometimes), but hopefully it wasn't too bad to read.


	7. Careless Whispers of a Good Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some clues are found, and some truths brought to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so . . . I wanted this chapter out hours ago, but sadly I couldn't. The people who were supposed to change shifts with me never showed (there were like four people who didn't show). So I didn't get home until late. I'm upset over that, and may have hashed it out on the characters. I might come back to this chapter again later and edit it further, depending on whether or not Sam and Dean end up sounding like the bad guys and become hated. Whoops

“Klaus. You and Dean stay here, scope the place out. I’ll start looking into Bloody Mary lore,” Sam said.

Dean nodded to his brother, and Klaus piped in excitedly, “Ben will go with you! He’s always been smart, and he can pick up on stuff you might miss.”

Sam hesitated a moment, gears turning behind hazel eyes. Then, slowly, a warm smile stretched across his face. “Thank you, Klaus. Ben. I would love to have the help.”

Klaus’s smile widened, only to falter slightly at a glance to where Ben was. “Ben? Something wrong?”

Sam glanced to Dean, eyebrows drawn together. Dean gave a shrug.

Klaus huffed. “Just go hang out with your books. Maybe you and Sam can become nerdy buddies!” He turned back to Sam. “He’ll go with you. He’s just being a moody teenager ghost.”

With a snort, Sam turned to leave, hopefully with Ben in tow. Dean took out his homemade EMF as he and Klaus hiked up the stairs.

“Thanks for letting Ben hang out with Sam. It would have messed with my readings.”

Klaus looked at the device curiously. “What readings?”

Dean grinned, excitement filling him at the chance to talk about his homemade device. “It’s an EMF. Homemade, too.”

“Wow . . .” Klaus nodded. “So, it picks up ghost readings?”

“Not just ghosts. Most baddies tend to leave a bit of a trail behind that an EMF can pick up on.”

“And you made it by yourself?” Klaus’s eyes sparkled.

"Hell yeah I did," Klaus's excitement caused Dean's to show through.

They chatted quietly as they roamed the upstairs, making their way to the bathroom where Shoemaker had kicked the bucket. The EMF wasn't picking up anything unordinary all throughout the rooms, but as soon as they reached the bathroom, Klaus inhaled sharply and backed up a step, his smile vanishing as fast as the blood that drained from his face.

"Klaus?" Dean glanced back down to the EMF. It barely made a peep.

Klaus's hand came up to cover his lips, shaking so badly that Dean thought the boy might just come apart.

"It's . . . So evil in here. So much hatred and fear and . . . Ugly things." He looked like he was about to throw up. "I-I have to go."

He ran from the room. Dean watched him go, bewildered.

Dean found Klaus out in the car a while later, the teen completely silent as he stared at his hands.

". . . Klaus?" Dean knelt down beside the teen with the car door wide open. "You good man?"

Klaus slowly brought his eyes up to meet Dean's, and the hunter was shaken by the haunted look he was given. "I've never felt anything like that before."

"Well, that tiling was pretty frightening," Dean tried to joke. Klaus didn't smile, didn't even seem the tiniest bit amused. ". . . Sorry."

"I don't . . . I'm terrified of what these powers might be able to do."

Dean sighed and placed a hand on Klaus's shoulder. "We're here to help you, Klaus. We won't let anything bad happen to you. Not while you're with us."

The hope that was shown in the teen's eyes was heartbreaking. Dean gave him a warm grin, to which the boy returned with a small one of his own.

"So . . . What was that all about back there?" 

Klaus shuddered and brought his arms up to shield himself. "It was awful. All this pure hate and anger just surged through me. And fear. So, so much fear."

"Was it Shoemaker?" Dean's brows furrowed.

Klaus shook his head. " _ Mary' _ ."

Ben followed behind Sam, not wanting to leave his brother's side, but also knowing that this would be a good opportunity to watch one of the hunters without the other. See what they were like separated.

Sam found a secluded spot that gave him view of two exits and a plug-in for his laptop, and Ben sat crossed legged on top the table, hands in his pockets.

Sam hesitated once he had his laptop open, fingers hovering over the keys. Ben tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

"Ben," Sam began, surprising Ben. Usually, the hunters would only talk with Ben (well, at Ben) when Klaus was around to translate, or if Klaus had him manifested. "Dean and I have been discussing things about what to do about you and Klaus."

Ben scowled. Yeah, he knew.

"The thing is," he continued, voice low, "we just don't know everything about Klaus, so we're assuming that you'll decay like any other ghost. We don't know why you're still here, so we don't really know how to send you to heaven or wherever it is ghosts go, but we want to help you two."

He paused for a moment, Ben folding his arms as the rage returned. Sam cleared his throat into his fist and went on, "I'm not saying we're planning on getting rid of you entirely. Just . . . We don't want you to end up like those that go insane the longer they remain as they are."

"Joke’s on you," Ben grumbled, despite Sam not hearing him. "I bet Klaus has a way of keeping me sane. Or something." He pondered that for a moment. "In fact, I bet that's why I'm still around. Klaus. He needs me. So, no, I'm not leaving." He grinned, all of his teeth flashing in the false light. “And you can’t make me. I’ll claw my way back from hell to get to his side.”

Yeah, maybe it was spite talking, and maybe he was upset that the hunters were planning to dispose of him, but he absolutely meant it. And, yeah, the longer he thought about it, he was sure that Klaus would find a way to keep him sane.

Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. "We want Klaus to stay with us. We want to protect him from other hunters, from  _ himself _ . Can you trust us with that?"

Ben scoffed. "Of course. But it's  _ my _ job to look out for my brother, not yours. If you try to get rid of me, I will not make things easy for you."

A chill spread through the room, Sam's breath coming out in a vapor cloud. The books shuttered on the shelves, some clattering to the floor. Sam's head shot up, shoulders tensing. Ben's anger dimmed, being replaced with fear, and everything stilled once more. Did . . . Did he do that?

"Ben . . ." Sam swallowed.

He didn't have to say more.

They all regrouped back at the motel, Klaus immediately turning to Ben once Sam came in.

"Ben! I missed you." 

He walked to the corner of the room to speak in low tones with his brother while Dean went to Sam.

"Anything?"

Sam shook his head. "The Bloody Mary legend is nationwide. There are thousands of urban legends and stories related to her. Kids say the words in front of the mirror all the time and it never works."

"Yeah, but this time it did," Dean said.

"How are you so sure? Maybe it's a coincidence."

"Klaus."

That really said it all, didn’t it? Sam glanced to the medium. "What happened on your end?"

Dean sighed. "Kid said he felt Mary’s . . . I don’t know, emotions or something. He didn’t really explain.”

“Wait,” Sam’s eyes widened. “He said Mary specifically?”

Dean nodded, grinning in amazement. “Yeah. He said that she had been super angry.”

His little brother nodded along, looking thoughtful. “It would make sense, then . . . I’ll have to look into deaths in the area. I guess the Shoemakers did something that really pissed off a spirit.”

“Guess so,” Dean said. “We should also keep an eye on the family, just in case Mary decides to attack again.” He paused for a moment, eyes trained on the teenager. “It’s really helpful to have him with us.”

He could  _ feel _ Sam’s smirk without looking. “You sure we want to drop him off at Bobby’s?”

Dean glared at his brother. “He doesn’t have training, Sam.”

Sam scoffed. “As if that’s ever stopped our family before. We were raised on the road, Dean. I spent most of the time in the motels. Hell, I’ve been attacked before before I even knew how to hold a gun correctly.”

Dean winced at that, memories of his past failures coming to mind. It happened a lot more when Sam was a teenager, but when he was really little . . .

Sammy was his responsibility.  _ Watch out for Sammy _ . . .

“Dean.” Dean snapped back to Sam’s worried gaze. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring anything up . . .”

Dean waved him off. “I’m fine. Klaus, though, I don’t want to risk it. I’m not dad. Not about this, anyway.”

With a sigh, Sam acquiesced.

“. . . Doesn’t mean we won’t ask for help every now and again . . .” Dean tacked on at the end.

The smirk returned. Dean flipped him off.

The smile slowly faded, and Sam stepped closer, voice lowering. “There was an incident at the library today . . .”

A niggle of worry wormed its way into Dean’s stomach. “What happened?”

“Excuse me?” Klaus’s sharp voice brought their attention to the boy, effectively cutting their conversation short. Klaus whipped around to face them, face twisted in anger and hurt. “You want to get rid of Ben!”

Dean backed up a step, blue shimmers running along Klaus’s arms as he let his emotions control his powers. “Wait a minute--”

“You told him that you think he’s dangerous. To me!” Klaus sliced the air with a hand. “Well listen here, I won’t stand for that! Ben is the best thing in the entire  _ world _ . Even if he does end up doing something that  _ might _ hurt me--which he wouldn’t!--I wouldn’t  _ care _ because he’s my brother.  _ He’s my brother _ . And he’s all I have left.”

They could see Ben, now, the ghost’s smug grin and folded arms taunting the hunters. 

Dean bit his lip. “Klaus,” he said, taking a small step forward, “over time, ghosts decay and go insane. It’s a result of negative emotions that build up over time. Like Mary, remember?”

Klaus faltered for a moment, fear crossing his features briefly. Ben’s smile faded, worry directed towards his brother.

“The same could happen to Ben.” Dean went on. “We don’t know. And we don’t want you to be hurt because of that. We don’t want what happened today to happen again.”

For a moment, Dean thought that maybe he had convinced the teen. Klaus bit his lip, curls obscuring his eyes and hands playing with his shirt hem. Dean took another step forward, hands outstretched.

“No.” Klaus’s eyes hardened and he moved around Dean, grabbing his jacket from where he had thrown it on the bed earlier to fling around his shoulders. “Until you guys realize that Ben is here to stay, I want nothing to do with you.”

“You can’t just leave!” Dean tried, desperate.

Klaus just looked at him, fire burning in his eyes. “Watch me.”

He slammed the door on his way out.

“Klaus!” Ben ran to catch up. “Klaus, wait up!”

His brother’s arms were still glowing faintly in the night air, most of it hidden beneath black jacket sleeves. Ben could feel the chill in the air, could feel the road under his feet as he ran, and knew that he was manifested.

His brother stopped abruptly, causing Ben to run into him. Klaus didn’t really notice, lost in his anger.

“Didn’t I tell them that you were the best? Didn’t I tell them that you wouldn’t hurt me?”

“Klaus--”

“And yet, they go and say stuff like that!” Klaus threw his hands into the air like the dramatic bitch he was. “Like, do they know you at all? No! I do!”

“ _ Klaus _ \--”

“And the way they were all surprised when I turned it on them. It’s like they didn’t want me to know and do it behind my back. That’s dirty!”

“Klaus--!”

“Well, fine, if they’re too squeamish to be around you, we’ll go.”

Ben pursed his lips. “Where are you going, Klaus?” Ben asked, praying that it wasn’t what he thought it was.  _ Please not drugs, please not drugs, he was doing so well _ \--

“You and I are going to finish this hunt. Without them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I seem to be having a schedule going on here where I update every Thursday. As long as I keep it up, I'll probably get this done faster than I thought.  
> Question, though. Would you guys want longer chapters or faster updates? (This might end up changing anyway depending on what goes on in life)


	8. You Make Me Want to Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean get some more clues on the case, and Klaus and Ben learn some new things about Klaus's powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been having to do 12 hour shifts at work lately, and I'm pondering quitting because my boss is crazy. Didn't show up to work today, so that's why this chapter's a little longer than the rest.

Sam woke up groggy and unrested. Dean hadn’t bothered going to sleep at all, by the looks of it. They had stayed up as late as possible, just in case Klaus came back.

He never did.

That worried the hunters. There was a malicious ghost out there and the kid was homeless again. He didn't even have any money to buy food or shelter with. No phone, either.

"We need to find him," Dean stated. "And we should apologize."

"Apologize to what?" Sam asked without heat. "For saying that his brother is a monster that could turn on him at any moment? Or for him finding out and getting angry?"

Dean winced. "Yeah, okay. That makes it sound awful.”

Sam shrugged, turning his attention down to his clothes. He pulled his shirt over his head before he answered. “It is, though. The situation is new to all of us, but especially Klaus. We may not know enough about his powers, but from our experience, it’s never a good thing to keep a ghost in this realm for long.”

His older brother laced his shoes and shoved his knife into his duffle. He paused. “You mentioned, last night. Something about Ben?”

Grim, Sam buttoned his flannel before he answered. “Yeah. He, uh . . .” he rubbed a hand over his face. “He caused the books in the library to shake, and some of them fell. It startled one of the poor librarians.”

Dean furrowed his brows. “That’s not a good sign.”

Sam shook his head.

“And Klaus is out there alone with him, thinking that his brother is fine.” Dean sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “This is really not good.”

“We need to sit him down and explain things.” Sam pursed his lips. “But we should maybe give him enough time to calm down. I’d rather not have tangible ghosts swarming us again.”

“Agreed.”

Klaus was sitting at a small diner nearby the Shoemaker home, having Ben spy around for any interesting information. He had only ordered a coffee, just having enough coins in one of his pockets for the drink. It wasn’t much, but it was a whole lot more than what he’s had in the past. He looked longingly at the plate of waffles that was set down at the table next to him by a short waitress with a Southern drawl. The police officer at the table smiled politely back at her.

A shiver ran through Klaus, sweat forming on his brow. Nausea rumbled through his stomach, but he forced it down with another sip of coffee. He  _ wantswantswants _ a pill so badly. Focusing on anything was getting harder.

A sigh from Ben brought Klaus’s attention to his brother. “Anything?”

Ben shook his head. “Not unless you want to know that the guy at the bar likes to hit on women that are twenty plus years younger than him. He hides his wedding band in his back pocket.”

Klaus scrunched his nose. “Gross. I didn’t need to know that, Benny.”

His brother snorted and took a seat at the bench on the other side of the table, resting his hands in front of him as he slouched. “Welcome to my life.”

“Life, you say?”

“Shut up, Klaus.”

“Make me.”

Ben made an adorable annoyed face. Klaus loved it.

The brothers sat silently together, Klaus occasionally sipping at his coffee (disgusting, why did people like this stuff?) and Ben watching him with that faraway look in his eye that he always got whenever Klaus ate or drank anything.

An idea popped into Klaus’s head. “Hey, Ben, we should try to have you eat something.”

Eyes wide, Ben leaned forward. “Can you do that?”

Klaus shrugged. “I have no idea.” He pushed his coffee forward. “Here, try it with the coffee.”

Ben frowned. “I don’t want to drink your breakfast.”

“Why? Think you’ll get my cooties?” He waggled his brows.

A roll of the eyes. “No, idiot. You’re skinnier than a bean pole and anything with carbs will keep you alive.”

“Rude,” Klaus pushed it a tad closer. “I want to test my theory and I have no more money. Drink it.”

Ben scowled, but he obeyed, reaching his hand forward. The scowl was replaced with curiosity, and Klaus grinned.

It was beginning to get easier to make Ben corporeal. Klaus recognised the feeling his powers gave him after having done it a few times now. It was still a little difficult, and he couldn’t force it. It was more like . . . he had to feel a connection between him and Ben, a mutual want of making Ben part of the real world. Like they were building a bridge together and met in the middle. It was weird.

Ben wrapped his hand around the warm drink, pleasant surprise overtaking his face. “I can feel how warm it is,” his brother whispered. Klaus’s heart became all gushy.

Cautiously, like the mug might fall at any moment (which, fair, Klaus was still practicing), Ben brought it to his lips and took a tentative sip. The change was instantaneous.

“Holy hell that’s amazing,” Ben moaned, slurping down more of the drink without a care. “It’s so  _ warm _ .”

Klaus beamed. “It worked!” He threw his hands into the air. Some patrons around the diner cast the two strange looks, but Klaus didn’t care. It  _ worked _ . Ben could have breakfast with him for real! Well, at least coffee. Klaus wanted to try waffles next, knowing that Ben would likely want his favorite food after months of not being able to taste anything.

Klaus’s musings came to a halt as tears streamed down Ben’s face. “Ben?” Klaus reached forward, fingers brushing away ghostly tears. They didn’t stop. “What’s wrong?”

“I . . . I can taste it. I can  _ feel  _ it. Klaus . . .” Ben grabbed Klaus’s hand and squeezed hard. “ _ Thank you _ .”

A lump formed in Klaus’s throat, eyes beginning to sting. “Of course, Benny,” he forced out. It came out as more of a wheeze. He coughed and quickly brushed away tears from his own lashes. “Gotta have someone eat my leftovers.”

Ben huffed, lips turning up slightly. “I’m gonna force it down your throat first.”

Klaus placed a hand on his chest. “My own brother, threatening to kill me. WIth food, no less!”

Ben laughed at that, tears beginning to dry. Pride welled up in Klaus’s chest.

“Got any news on the latest crazy stroke victim?” the policeman asked, piquing Klaus’s interest. He tilted his head towards the table, where the man had a phone to his ear and a fork halfway to his mouth. “Jill, you say? That’s terrible. My daughter was friends with that girl.” He sighed.

Klaus raised a brow at Ben. His brother just hummed in agreement.

Huh. Maybe they do have a way of speaking without really speaking. Awesome.

“Yeah, went to the same highschool. Whitmer.”

They had a name, a school, and potential friends of the victim.

Klaus didn’t wait for the call to end, already down the street before the waitress came back for the policeman’s check.

Sam got a call soon after they had breakfast from a gas station, the number being one he didn’t recognise.

“Sam Winchester,” he answered, Dean giving him a wary look.

“This is the same Sam who gave me his number at Donna’s place, right?” a girl’s voice echoed through the small speaker.

Sam quirked a brow. “Charlie?”

The girl sighed in relief on the other end. “Yeah. It’s me.”

After the group had split yesterday, Sam had given his number to Charlie, the blonde girl who had stood up for Donna, and who Klaus had said had a ghost following her. If she ever had any problems, he wanted her to call, just in case. He didn’t think she would call so soon.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, um . . .” Charlie choked up, breath coming out in uneasy stutters. “No. No, it’s not alright.”

Sam sat up. “What’s wrong?” Dean perked up beside him.

“It’s . . . my friend, Jill. Do you remember her from the funeral?” At Sam’s silence, she went on, “Nevermind. She and I were on a phone call last night and she . . . she said it!”

“Said what, Charlie?”

“It was just a joke! But she said it, Bloody Mary, three times in the mirror, and then this morning they found her dead in her bathroom.”

Sam’s eyes widened, and he smacked Dean’s shoulder a few times. A quiet and upset  _ ‘dude’ _ escaped his brother’s grumbling lips, but the other hunter started up the car. “Charlie, it’s okay.”

“What’s--What’s happening?” Charlie asked, voice shaking.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Sam glanced to Dean. “Where are you right now?”

She gave them the address. “We’ll come pick you up,” he said. “Would you mind helping us get into Jill’s house so we can have a look around?”

“I . . . I guess I could tell her mom that I want a chance to say goodbye to her in private. It might give you guys a bit of time.”

“Thank you, Charlie,” Sam said. He smiled. “This is a huge help. We’ll stop this before more people are hurt.”

Once they entered Jill’s house through the window, the hunters took out their gear to search around the room for any clues. Dean had his EMF, while Sam had an ultraviolet light. He turned the blinds down once the window was closed tightly.

“So, what do you think this is?” Charlie asked nervously. She had her arms crossed over her chest, still upset, but willing to hear them out over this. “I mean, you seemed to believe Lily over what she said about Bloo--” she stopped herself, “you know.” She bit her lip. “It’s not real, right? It’s just a stupid game and this is all coincidence?”

Sam glanced to the girl from where he was in front of the standing mirror, scanning it with his UV light. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “Mary is a ghost. We’ve had confirmation of that. Now, we just need to figure out why the trigger words are working here, and how she’s been killing people.”

Charlie took in a startled breath. “Wait . . . A ghost? So, it’s real?”

Sam nodded, giving her a sympathetic smile. “I know it might be a little hard to believe, but . . .” He waved a hand around the room to accentuate his point. The evidence was there.

The girl shuddered and tears sprung to her eyes. “That’s . . . and Jill really . . .” She choked on her words and placed a hand on her lips. “How do we stop it?”

“Well, once we’ve figured out the source of how the ghost is doing all of this, and where she’s buried, we’ll salt and burn the bones,” Dean piped in. Sam moved on to the bathroom, checking the cabinet first before moving the light around the mirror and it’s edges.

“Salt and burn the bones?” she asked.

“Only way to get rid of it. As far as we know, that is.” Dean and Sam shared a knowing look.

Perhaps, once Klaus grew more familiar with his powers, there would be an easier and less traumatic way of getting rid of ghosts. He did get rid of Shoemaker, after all. However, for now, this was the fastest way to stop the threat.

“Dean,” Sam stopped the light on some glowing ooze under the large bathroom mirror that he spotted with the light. “Help me take down the mirror.”

His brother and him moved the mirror over to Jill’s bed, flipping it over so Sam could scan it. Nothing showed up, but once Sam ripped off the paper backing, the light showed a handprint and the name “Gary Bryman” spelled out messily like it had been written by a finger. Charlie gasped beside them.

“Gary Bryman,” she said, face pale. “That’s the name of the boy that Jill had accidentally killed in a hit and run. She was so upset by it. She had been drunk, hadn’t really been paying attention to the road, and she blamed herself for years because of it.”

Pursing his lips, Sam looked to Dean. “I bet you that there’s a name on the back of Shoemaker’s mirror, too.”

Sure enough, the name “Linda Shoemaker” was scrawled on the back of Shoemaker’s mirror.

“That’s Donna’s mom,” Charlie said. “But, that doesn’t make sense. She died because of an accidental sleeping pill overdose.”

“I don’t think that overdose was so accidental,” Dean stated, looking just as grim as Sam felt.

“What are you doing here?” Donna’s voice dragged them away from the mirror and to the girl, who stood with her arms crossed in the doorway. “Charlie?”

Charlie stepped forward. “We were just looking into what happened to your dad.”

Donna’s face twisted in confusion. “He died because of a stroke.”

“Does a stroke cause people’s eyes to melt into a bloody mess?” Sam brought up.

The girl hesitated. “Well . . .”

“Exactly.”

“What were you saying about my mom?” She suddenly asked. “I heard you say her name.”

The three looked between one another, before Sam cleared his throat. “It’s possible that your mom might not have died accidentally.”

Donna bit her lip. “I think you need to leave.”

“Donna--”

“No, you’re talking nonsense,” she hissed. “My mom died of an overdose and my dad died of a stroke. Leave my house right now, or I’m calling the cops.”

Sam put up his hands placatingly. “Alright. We’ll go.” He nodded to Dean and the two headed for the door.

“Donna . . .”

“I’ll see you at school,” Donna clipped, not looking at her friend. Charlie hesitated, worry clear on her face, but eventually followed the hunters out.

“Now what?” Charlie asked quietly.

Sam gave her a small smile. “You’re gonna go to school, and we’re gonna find out more about Mary and why she’s killing those who have hurt others.”

“Do you think she’ll go after anyone else? Like Donna or Lily?”

Dean shook his head. “As long as you don’t say it, and as long as no one else does, everyone will be fine. Besides, it seems like Mary’s only got a grudge against those who have killed others.”

Charlie lost all the color in her face, but she sighed and hugged herself. “Okay.”

“We’ll be as fast as we can, just in case,” Sam soothed. “You still have my number, right?”

The girl nodded.

“Contact us if anything happens.”

With that, they parted ways.

Klaus found the school relatively easily. He’d never been inside of one before unless it was for a mission, and he and Ben took advantage of the rare sight. Students milled about the premises with backpacks and whatever clothes they wanted to wear. Some had skateboards (and they got yelled at by teachers for riding them indoors), some walked from their cars with a few of their friends, and others got off of the bus before entering the school. Klaus looked inside the bus, mystified by the vehicle. He’d never been in one before, and he’s sure he would have loved to be one of the ones to doodle on the seats and write crude words along the walls. Ben, also, was interested in the way a lot of the cliques worked, his brother finding it fascinating that each person had a role in the friend groups.

Deciding it was best to probably pretend that he was there for a tour so he wouldn’t be kicked out or whatever, Klaus made his way inside with the crowd, used to being around a wave of people. Warm bodies shuffled through metal detectors before they went separate ways to their classes.

Klaus stepped through the metal detector and gathered his shoes and jacket on the other side. He was glad he already spent what little money he had, because there was no way he trusted anyone here not to steal the meager amount he had.

He supposed the same applied to the drugs he used to have stuffed in his jacket pockets. Good thing he used those already.

Man, he could use a hit. A shiver wracked his body at the thought.

“You okay, Klaus?” Ben asked softly.

“Yeah, fine,” Klaus lied. It felt like ants were crawling underneath his skin.

Ben didn’t believe him. Truth was, Klaus didn’t really believe himself either. He wasn’t really in the right mindset to be lying well right now.

“Well . . . let’s find Jill’s friends,” Ben suggested. “I’m sure they’ll be easy to spot. They’ll be in mourning, right?”

Klaus nodded, head bobbing for just a bit too long. He needed a distraction.

The school day was long and boring, but at least it wasn’t the level of boring that Reginald’s lessons were. At least here the level the students were at wasn’t as advanced, and Klaus was only bored because he already knew everything that was being taught. Ben seemed to be enjoying himself enough, which entertained Klaus, since his brother would perk up whenever there was an answer he knew by heart and he would shout it out like an eager puppy. It was adorable, and it made Klaus internally laugh whenever a student who got the answer wrong would receive the most  _ scandalized _ look from Ben.

All during the first couple of periods, he kept his eye out for any people that were depressed looking--or at least incredibly sad--but  _ everyone _ looked like they were. He knew it wasn’t because they all knew Jill.

“I just don’t know who to talk to!” Klaus whined during the lunch break. He flopped across the table he was sitting at alone, a few students giving him weird looks. He stuck his tongue out at them.

“I can spy around again, like at the diner,” Ben offered.

Klaus sighed and frowned. “Yeah . . . please? I’ll wait here for you.”

Ben just beamed. He must feel so useful for the first time in so long, which made Klaus’s heart twist painfully. He gave his brother a warm smile back, and then Ben was off.

With another long sigh, Klaus rubbed at his face, ignoring the shaking fingers and sweaty palms, and just took a moment to breathe. Sobriety had never been so hard before. Before he started hitting the really hard stuff--before Ben died. He had had a lot more control back then, and when Dad had forced him sober, he had an easier time. Before, he had the knowledge that he could just pop a few pills once he was done with training or whatever, but now . . . 

Well, at the same time, though, he didn’t have a way to banish ghosts. Not that he was very good at it right now, but knowing that he had the  _ option _ was such a blessing.

But his body was rebelling against him. It  _ wantedwantedwanted _ drugs so badly. It was hard, but he wanted to do it. He wanted to quit.

He wanted to do better. For Ben.

A girl screamed, and his heart leapt to his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! And Happy Valentines! I hope everyone has a good holiday and gets lots of love, whether from family, pets, friends, or lovers. <3


	9. I Turned All the Mirrors Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus and Charlie discuss things. Sam has a plan to get rid of Mary, but Dean doesn't like it one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone mentioned that Klaus using his powers and getting a bloody nose reminded them of Eleven. It made me laugh, thank you. I promise that wasn't my intention, but now I can't help but think of it every time hahaha!  
> I split this chapter and the next in half because it was getting to be way too long. Hopefully I'll have the next one done soon.  
> Also, I got an offer from one of my friends to work at their studio, so I'm most likely gonna end up working there.

Sam and Dean just finished talking about Mary Worthington with the officer who worked on her case a long time ago, finding out some very interesting details. They found their ghost, for sure.

Mary had been murdered in her home in front of a mirror. Her eyes had been cut out near perfectly, surgically removed. As she had laid dying, she had tried her best to write her murderer’s name on the mirror, but died before she could finish it.

Sam figured out that that same mirror was in a shop in Toledo. It was easy to guess that her spirit was tied to the mirror. All they had to do now was destroy the mirror and hope that the killings stopped.

“How are we going to keep her in the mirror, though? She can jump from place to place, wouldn’t she just be able to make a new home elsewhere?” Dean asked, not taking his eyes away from the road.

Sam bit his lip, shifting in his seat. “I was thinking--”

“Not a good thing.”

Sam threw him a nasty look. “ _ I was thinking _ , that maybe we should say it.”

“Say the chant?” Dean raised a brow. “Neither of us have any guilt over someone who died. I mean, sure, we’ve killed tons of sons of bitches, but we don’t feel guilty about it.”

The younger hunter didn’t say anything, opting to stare out his window. He could feel Dean’s worried stare.

“Sam?”

“I’ll say it. In front of the mirror. That way Mary will come to it and we can kill her.”

Dean pulled off the road so fast that Sam was afraid they’d run into the ditch. His brother’s hand gripped his shoulder hard enough to hurt, and Sam looked up. “Is this about Jessica?”

Sam bit his lip and sniffed, running a hand over his chin. The hand on his shoulder tightened.

"Sam, we've been over this.  _ It's not your fault _ ."

"You don't know that," Sam said.

"Yes, I do," said Dean. "How could it have been your fault, huh? Did you pin her to the ceiling? Did you set her on fire?"

"No--"

"Then it  _ wasn't you _ ." 

Sam felt tears gathering behind his eyes, and he smiled brokenly at his brother. "You don't know everything."

"What?" The grip lessened.

"I haven't told you everything that happened. The reason why it's my fault."

Dean frowned, anger flashing through his gaze. "Then tell me."

Sam huffed and shook his head. "Well, then, it wouldn't work to summon Mary, now, would it?"

Dean growled and shook him a little. "We'll think of a different way. Find Klaus--"

"Klaus hates us," Sam said. "And besides,  _ you _ were the one that didn't want him to get involved in the hunt."

"We'll think of a different way," Dean ground out again, starting the car back up as he removed his hand from Sam's shoulder.

Sam knew this would work. No matter what Dean said, he was going to do this.

Something was wrong with Klaus. He knew withdrawal when he saw it, but for some reason Klaus was sticking it out. He was proud of him, of course, but also severely worried. Worried that he couldn’t leave him alone anymore. One step off the path to recovery and his brother would spiral.

But Klaus had the drugs out of his system already, right? So . . . He shouldn’t be going through withdrawal. But it  _ looked _ like withdrawal. Unless, of course, he had taken something in the time that Ben had been with Sam and Dean had watched his brother.

_ Should have stayed with him _ , he reprimanded himself angrily. He wasn’t too sure he could trust the hunters anymore. Not with Klaus, and apparently not with his own safety.

Trust wasn't easily given from the Hargreeves, anyway. They had each other. Wasn't that enough?

A piercing scream tore Ben away from his thoughts, causing him to whirl around so quickly he might have given himself whiplash if he was alive. A girl ran past the cafeteria and toward the front doors.

“Klaus!”

“Right behind you, buddy,” Klaus said, already running past Ben to catch up to the girl.

She seemed familiar as they came closer. So did the male ghost that was following her . . . Oh!

“Klaus, it’s Charlie!”

“Who?”

“Charlie,” Ben repeated. “The girl at Shoemaker’s funeral who stood up for Donna.” He gasped. “Sam gave her his phone number. Maybe she knows what’s up!”

Klaus’s nose scrunched when Ben mentioned the hunter, but he still came up to the girl and asked softly, “Charlie?”

Charlie whipped around, hands flailing wildly. One backhanded Klaus in the face, and he stumbled in surprise.

“ _ Ow _ !” Klaus held a hand to his cheek, his pale skin already turning red.

Charlie gasped, hands coming to cover her lips. “I am  _ so, so sorry _ !”

“You totally deserved that,” Ben said.

“Rude, Benjamin.” Klaus glared. 

“What? You’re the one that scared her. You don’t sneak up on people that are clearly frightened.”

“That’s it, you’re out of the will.”

Ben raised a brow. “You have a will?”

“No,” said Klaus. “But once I write one up, I am  _ not _ putting you in it.”

Ben pouted.

“U-Um,” Charlie brought their attention back. Her eyes darted to where Klaus had been looking, and back again. “Who are you talking to?”

Klaus smiled brightly. “Details,” he waved a hand. 

“Wait . . . I remember you,” Charlie pointed a finger. “You were with Sam and Dean at the funeral. You work with them, right?” Her eyes widened. “So then, you know about the ghost that’s killing people right now.”

Klaus nodded, interested in how she knew about that. “Did they tell you?”

Charlie blushed. “Well, sort of. I kinda figured it out, too . . .” She bit her lip. “So, you go to my school?”

“Uh . . .” Klaus glanced at Ben, who just shrugged. “Sort of? What I wanna know is: Why’d you bolt through the school screaming like a banshee?”

“Do banshees exist?” Ben piped in. “That sounds like something that would exist, right? If monsters are real and stuff.”

At the same time, Charlie tensed and mumbled out, “It’s nothing.” Ben should be more courteous when other people are talking, but honestly, he’s just gotten so used to no one hearing him and him blabbering in Klaus’s ear to keep his brother distracted that it’s kind of habit by now.

Klaus raised his brows and asked, “Sorry, what was that?”

Charlie looked aggravated, biting at one of her nails and keeping her eyes trained to her feet. “I just . . . I told Donna not to say it!”

“The Bloody Mary thing, right?”

Charlie paled and backed away like Klaus might hurt her. He held up his hands placatingly, giving her a winning smile. Or, at least, one that his brother  _ thought _ was winning. It was rather jarring, actually. All teeth and near bloodless lips that stretched just a tad too wide. His brother needed to work on that. Ben just rolled his eyes.

“ _ Yes _ ,” Charlie said tensely, shivering despite the warmer air. Well, warmer than it had been as of late. Definitely warmer than Canada. Ben was getting off focus again. Dammit, Klaus and his annoying attention span that rubbed off on Ben. “I warned her, but then she . . . she said it. Three times in the bathroom mirror.”

Klaus hummed. “And now you think you’re being chased by a ghostie?”

She glared at him. “I  _ am _ . I saw her in the reflective surfaces . . .” She wrapped her arms around herself and choked back a sob. “She’s coming to kill me!”

Klaus glanced around the area, but the only other ghost he saw was the male ghost that was crying next to Charlie. He carefully took her arms and tugged once. “Come on, we’ll make sure you’re okay.”

She sniffled. “You’ll take me to Sam and Dean?”

He winced. “Well, actually, we’re not on good terms right now, and I don’t have a phone . . .” he trailed off at her agitated features, “but if it’ll make you feel better, you can call them.”

Charlie nodded, already pulling out her phone. She made a strangled sound and shoved it at Klaus. “Call them! She’s in the phone screen.”

Klaus hesitantly took the device, a shudder running down his spine. “I will. Do you have the number?”

She rattled it off, taking hold of his jacket and curling in close. Ben just folded his arms while Klaus typed in the number. He didn’t understand why Charlie was suddenly so clingy. Even being afraid, people don’t seek comfort like that from someone they hardly knew. Suspicion flashed through Ben.

Klaus took her hand and led her further away from the school as he held the phone to his ear.

“Uh . . . hey, Sam.”

Entering their motel room was tense. Sam and Dean hadn’t spoken to each other since the fight in the car, and Sam knew his brother was pissed at him. Didn’t mean he was about to change his mind.

He just tossed his jacket onto his bed when his phone went off. Recognizing it as Charlie’s number, he picked up after the second ring. “Charlie?”

“Uh . . .” a familiar and nervous voice said from the other end, “hey, Sam.”

“ _ Klaus _ ?”

Dean sprung up from his droopy slouch on his bed to crowd the phone. Sam held up a hand to silence him as he noticed the questions burning in his eyes. They hadn’t heard anything from Klaus in  _ days _ , and they were rightly worried about him. To hear from him so suddenly was both a relief and a cause for slight panic.

“Yeah, it’s me. Listen,” Klaus said, getting right to business. “I’m still mad at you two, but Charlie needs help. So I have elected to put our differences aside for the moment and keep her from being murdered in an ugly way.”

Sam glanced at Dean, his brother not hearing very much since the phone was pressed against Sam’s ear. “What happened to Charlie? Are you both okay?”

Klaus hummed. “Well, other than being chased by Mary herself, I think we’re pretty okay. Oh, and by the way, she can travel through ANY reflective surface, hence why I’m the one calling.” There were some muffled curses on the other end and a loud sound that had Sam leaning the phone away from his ear with a wince.

“Klaus?” He couldn’t help the worry that coated his tone. “Klaus!”

“Here, sorry,” Klaus’s voice came back. Sam relaxed minutely. “A car passed us and Charlie freaked. I took off my jacket so she could cover her eyes.”

“Where are you?” Sam brought out a pen and snapped his fingers so Dean could grab the notepad off the motel nightstand. He did so without hesitation.

There was a knock on the door. The brothers tensed.

“I’m here,” said Klaus.

Sam hung up and opened the door to see Klaus’s cheeky expression. He wasn’t impressed. Klaus shoved his way into the motel, Charlie in tow.

“Where the hell have you been?” Dean demanded, taking Charlie from the boy and sitting her down on one of the beds. Charlie huddled under Klaus’s jacket, shivering from fear. Dean then went around the room collecting anything that was reflective and turning it around or placing it on the floor face down.

Klaus’s smile dropped and he folded his arms. “Rude. I thought I’d at least get a pleasant ‘hello, Klaus’ or even a ‘it’s so good to not see you mauled by a nasty ghost’.”

Sam gently grabbed Klaus’s chin to lift the boy’s eyes up to his. He checked for signs of drug abuse, and Klaus gave him a disgusted look.

“I didn’t take any drugs! Get off me.” He shoved Sam away, but the larger man barely moved. Holding his hands up placatingly, Sam stepped back to give Klaus his space. Klaus huffed and straightened out his shirt. “I’ve been tracking down Mary. Good thing, too, since Charlie probably would have been dead by now without me.”

Said girl whimpered and buried her head deeper into her knees. Dean finished his scouring of the room and sat beside her, placing a gentle hand on her back. Sam couldn’t hear what he said to her, but she slowly took off the jacket and looked around the room cautiously, her makeup smeared and eyes bloodshot.

“You’ve been on the case?” Sam asked. “Why?”

Klaus straightened out. “Because I want you guys to take me seriously! I want you to understand that I can take care of myself and that Ben will never hurt me.”

“We’re just worried, Klaus,” Sam explained. “We brought you into the case, but . . .”

“I’m not a child!” Klaus shouted, blue shimmering along his arms. Ben became visible for a moment, the boy blank-faced and eyes flicking between Sam and Klaus. Another ghost appeared in the corner, but it looked out of it and only focused on the bed, to Sam’s utter relief. Charlie’s eyes widened at the sight of Ben, not noticing the one behind her, and her gasp startled Klaus enough that he relaxed his hands.

Klaus took a deep breath and turned his dark eyes to Sam’s, rage hidden behind false calm. The blue disappeared, along with Ben and the ghost in the corner. “Listen to me. I haven’t been a child since I was two, and even then I was learning how to hold a knife before I was talking. Daddy dearest wanted us to kill by five, and we were doing missions for him by eight.”

Hearing that Klaus had a scarily similar upbringing to their own made something ugly in Sam’s chest cry out, sympathy leaking through his gaze. He could see the moment that Klaus put up his defenses again, brick walls dividing his soft inside from the cruel world around them, from the sympathy that Sam exuded. Sam knew then and there that Klaus was going to be family. Nothing else screamed “Winchester” like emotional constipation and rage followed by unhealthy coping mechanisms. He wanted to trust Klaus, like Dean had trusted him at that age.

Sam bit his lip and looked to Dean. His older brother just shook his head, eyes flitting to Charlie as he was whispering encouraging words to her. Sam sighed and looked Klaus up and down. “You’re sure?”

Klaus nodded, anger still simmering under the surface, his jaw clenched tightly. Sam could almost hear his teeth grinding together.

Slumping his shoulders as he sighed, Sam ran a hand over his face. “Alright. Alright, but no more going off on your own like that. We thought something bad happened.”

Klaus’s features softened and he relaxed his posture. A small smile passed his lips, his eyes focusing on something behind Sam. “Yeah, these two are worse than Diego and Mom.” He focused back on Sam. “I’m still mad, but we’ll call it a truce for now.” He held out a hand.

Sam took it with a grin. “Deal.”

“Now, then,” Klaus sauntered over to Charlie and flopped down beside her. “Why is Mary going after you?”

Charlie furrowed her brows. “I already told you. Donna said it in the bathroom and then she--she--” She choked.

Sam knelt down beside the girl, eyebrows pressed together and eyes knowing. “I don’t think that’s what he meant, Charlie,” he whispered. “Why is Mary going after  _ you _ , when Donna is the one who said it? Who got hurt?”

Klaus’s hazel gaze flicked to something behind Charlie, and back again.

“I . . . I don’t know . . .” Charlie hiccupped.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” Klaus asked softly with a small wave to the corner, and Charlie froze. “Your boyfriend.”

Sam and Dean looked to one another, both with the same questioning glance. Charlie hiccupped again, then buried her face in Klaus’s shoulder.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I--I killed him.”

Ben raised a brow at Charlie, and the ghost of her boyfriend shouted and wailed, finally becoming more than a moping mess. Klaus winced at the sudden volume change, placing one hand over his ear and leaning away from the ghost.

“Yeesh, guy, lower the decibels,” Klaus grunted. He gently placed his other hand on Charlie’s head, giving her a soothing pat.

“What happened?” Sam asked, both to Klaus and Charlie. Klaus wisely stayed silent. This was Charlie’s time, and Ben was proud his brother didn’t interrupt with a crude joke or morbid humor.

“My boyfriend and I were together for a long time,” she said. She wiped away tears as she explained her story, not leaning away from the small comfort that Klaus gave. “I loved him. But he . . . he kinda scared me too, you know?” She shifted a little in her spot. “And one night at his house, we got in this fight. I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me.”

The boy in the corner was tearing at his hair, getting increasingly agitated. He hoped Klaus could calm him down, or, better, send him away like he did Shoemaker.

“And he said . . . ‘Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I’m gonna kill myself’.”

Ben could see where this was going, and he didn’t like it one bit. 

“And you know what I said?” She looked up at them, guilt and pain and resignation in her tone. “I said, ‘Go ahead’. And I left.” She shook her head, lip wobbling. “How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just . . .” she glanced up to Klaus, “I didn’t believe him, you know?” Tears streamed down her face. “I should’ve.”

She didn’t do anything wrong and yet the poor girl blamed herself over what that bastard did. Ben clenched his teeth, fingers digging into his arms where he had them folded.

“It’s not your fault,” Dean said. His eyes darted to Sam and back again, and Ben could tell there was a story there. He tucked it away to address at a later time.

Charlie just shook her head, the guilt that had eaten away at her for so long was too strong for mere words to fix. 

Klaus fixed his gaze on the man in the corner, lips pressed into a thin line. Ben wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but his brother lifted his hand and closed his eyes, and he understood. He was going to banish the ghost like he had with Shoemaker.

Pride swelled in Ben’s chest. It had only been a week since Klaus started his sobriety, but he was already improving so much.

Klaus’s hand began to shake, sweat beading along his brow. Sam and Dean shared a worried look, not entirely sure what he was doing. Blood dribbled down into his mouth, the hunters’ eyes widening in alarm.

“Klaus--”

One second, the wailing boy in the corner was pacing, and the next he was gone in a puff of smoke. Klaus grinned, letting his hand drop onto the duvet and the other one coming up to rub at his nose.

Charlie grabbed his face. Ben frowned at the action. “What happened? Why are you bleeding?” She trembled. “It’s not Mary, right?”

He shook his head, smile widening as he took her hands away from his face. “Nope! Just got rid of a nuisance.”

She bit her lip, lurching for the tissues to dab at his face. “It was a ghost, right?”

Ben and Klaus looked at her in surprise. Charlie rolled her eyes. “I’m not dumb. You can see them without them trying to hurt you. You talk to one a lot. You even brought one here,” she gestured vaguely towards where Ben was, “earlier. I don’t really get it, but you have a connection to them.”

Klaus nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

She bit her lip. “You can get rid of Mary, too, right?” Her pleading eyes met his brother’s. “I don’t want to die.”

Klaus gave her a big grin. “That’s the plan! Plus, I got the OK from the bosses.” He gestured to Sam and Dean with a thumb.

Charlie seemed to realize they weren’t alone in the room. “Right. Thank you.” She smiled sincerely.

“Just stay in here, Charlie,” Sam said softly. “Don’t look at any mirrors or any reflective surfaces, and she can’t get you. You’ll be safe right here.” He pointed to the door. “We’ll knock three times in a specific pattern when it’s okay to look again.”

Charlie nodded and flashed another smile. The hunters smiled back before they grabbed Klaus and headed out the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :*


	10. As Long As I'm Here, No One Can Hurt You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final boss fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I've been super excited to write this chapter since the beginning. It's pretty much been my main motivation for writing this. I hope I didn't make the action too fast, or make the whole focus just on how awesome Ben and Klaus are (although that's a big thing). I tried to keep to the Supernatural script as much as possible, but wanted to bring in Umbrella Academy flair.  
> This whole chapter is from Klaus's POV.

The ride to the store was uneventful for Klaus. Most of his time was spent watching the world pass by outside the windows and giggling at comments Ben spouted about the hunters.

“Seriously, these two are such mother hens,” Ben had said earlier in the motel. And, yes, he was absolutely correct. If this was Sam and Dean’s way of saying they cared, he’d have to set some things straight.

He chuckled to himself. Straight. As if anything about him was straight.

Right, focus. He had to convince the brothers that he wasn’t some damsel in distress and could really help them out. It seemed like Sam was pretty convinced, especially since Klaus accidentally let some of his locked-up secrets spill through his carefully guarded fortress. He hadn’t meant to. He was just . . . so tired, and so needy and scared and  _ wanting _ —

Yeah, so, he had let it slip to the hunter that he and his siblings were nothing but tiny toy soldiers to their dad and his grand schemes. And maybe he had let a little bit of his frustration and fear out, maybe a tiny bit of mania. But Sam had given him such a warm look, a look of  _ understanding _ , and Klaus . . .

He shut up like a clam and buried his feelings deep, deep down like he always does and acted like what he just said didn’t affect him.

So.

Sam wasn’t a problem, really. He was warming up to Klaus and Ben just fine.

Dean, on the other hand . . .

The man had an older brother complex, kind of like Diego. Except his was ten times worse and he didn’t use knives to threaten his younger siblings to keep quiet about his squishy insides. Dean was not only a mother hen, but he was like a mother, father, and older brother all rolled up into one. And if he saw what he deemed as his little . . . sibling, child, whatever, was in danger or threatened, he went total mama bear on it. Klaus was kind of terrified of what would happen if Sam ever got hurt, honestly.

His mindset now applied to Klaus. Dean saw Klaus as his, whether it be friend or sibling or even just close acquaintance, and Dean was determined to keep him as safe as possible. Which was as frustrating as it was endearing. The only other person to act like that around him was Diego, and it made Klaus’s frozen heart warm just the tiniest bit.

Oh, who is he kidding? It was a melted puddle of goo at this point.

He was still mad at them though, and until they talked everything out, he was going to stay mad at them out of spite.

“You know, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but you tend to trust people too easily. Especially if they’re nice to you,” Ben said to his right.

Klaus looked up from where he was fiddling with his fraying jeans and to his brother. “What?”

Ben nodded. “Yeah, you just trust people too easily. Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to trust strangers?”

With a roll of his eyes, Klaus huffed, “Har, har.”

His brother grinned. He shifted closer and his smile faded. “I’m serious, though. You forgave Sam pretty quick back there, all because he was nice.”

Klaus frowned and narrowed his eyes at his brother. “I didn’t forgive him. Not yet. We still need to talk about a lot.  _ Especially _ about you.” Klaus waved a hand at his brother. “They should trust that you wouldn’t do something like the other ghosties. Because you’re . . . you’re  _ you _ .”

Ben winced and sat back against the leather seats. “Klaus . . . there’s something I didn’t tell you. About the library, with Sam.”

Irritation flickered through Klaus. “Oh? Did he decide to say something even  _ worse _ while I was away?” He glared holes into Sam’s head. The hunter glanced back at him and pursed his lips before starting a quiet conversation in the front.

“No,” said Ben. “It was . . . me.”

Klaus stopped glaring long enough to furrow his brows at his brother. “What do you mean?”

Ben sighed and the Horror shifted under his black leather jacket. He had Klaus’s full attention now. His gaze flicked from Klaus to the floor and back again. “Please don’t get upset.”

“I wouldn’t, Ben,” Klaus said. He meant it. No matter what Ben did, he could never make Klaus think anything less of him.

“I . . . I don’t know what happened, but I just got . . .” he ran a hand through his dark hair in frustration. “I got really angry and then the room got cold and the books started to shake.”

Klaus raised a brow. “They started to . . . shake?”

Ben bit his lip and looked down guiltily.

“Uh . . .” Because Klaus was never good at being articulate in situations like this. “Why is that . . . a bad thing?”

Ben rolled his eyes and folded his arms, glaring at Klaus. “Because! I made them shake! Some even fell off the shelves and I scared the librarians.” He whimpered and curled in on himself. “I’m dangerous. Even dead, I’m dangerous.”

And that, well, that just would not do. Klaus liked to pride himself on being able to calm Ben down from his downward spirals whenever his brother got just a little too close to that edge. Klaus may have jumped off that edge long ago, but not Ben. And he’d be damned if he ever let his brother follow him.

His hands glowed faintly as he took Ben’s shoulder and brought him around so they could look eye to eye. “Listen to me, right now.”

Ben, like a deer in the headlights, froze and kept his attention solely on his brother.

“You are not, and never will be, dangerous unless you  _ want to be _ . You hear me? Dad was a horrible bastard that brainwashed us all, and gaslit you to hate yourself, but you are  _ not _ like the other ghosts.”

He shook him a little. “You’re  _ Ben _ . You don’t even . . .” He swallowed. “You don’t look like what you did when you died. You’re sane. You’re  _ you _ , and if I have anything to say about it, you’ll continue to be you until the day I join you on the other side.”

“But what if the Horror helps in corrupting my mind? What if I end up like the other ghosts even when you try your hardest?”

Klaus shook his head. “Then I’ll just try  _ harder _ , and the Horror can suck it.”

Ben whimpered and wrapped himself around Klaus like the octopus Klaus always teased him to be. Klaus just smiled and patted his back.

“You guys good back there?” Dean’s gruff voice sounded from the front.

Klaus nodded. “Yep. Just had to reassure the baby octopus that he’s the best brother in the world.”

Ben smacked the back of his head and Klaus laughed. He noticed Sam’s lips curl just the tiniest bit and hope grew in his chest. Yeah, they’d come around soon enough.

Dean pulled off to park alongside the street near the store, the hunters getting a long look at the building. It was still pretty bright outside, so they were probably scoping out the best way to get inside the store without tripping any alarms. At least, that’s what Klaus was hoping they were doing.

Until Sam said, “We’ll go in at nightfall, when no one’s around. We’ll use the crowbars to open the locks and smash Mary’s mirror.”

Klaus balked at them when Dean nodded. That was it? That was the plan? “You cannot be serious,” he said. “No, really.”

When they just gave him a confused tilt of the head, Klaus threw his hands in the air. “You can’t just walk in all willy-nilly into a locked-up store! They have monitors and cameras and freaking  _ alarms _ .”

The hunters seemed to not have realized that. Klaus couldn’t believe it. They were supposed to be professionals!

“Well, what else are we supposed to do?” Dean asked. “We need to smash the mirror.”

At that moment, Klaus was reminded painfully of Luther. His brother was the same innocent, naïve boy. “Of course, we’re gonna smash it,” Klaus assured. “But we’re gonna make sure we don’t get caught along the way.”

“What do you propose we do?” Sam asked. It wasn’t in an annoyed tone, merely curious as to what he suggested. Klaus was pleasantly surprised that the man was taking him seriously. Dean raised a brow at him, and he smiled widely.

“Okay, here’s what I’m thinking,” Klaus started. “When the guard locks up for the night, we send Ben in to turn off the cameras and alarms. I have enough control over my powers to have him physical for a couple of minutes. But after sending away the ghost earlier, I’m already kind of tired. My guess is I won’t be able to do much after I give you that.”

Ben beamed, excited at the prospect of being able to do something important.

The hunters nodded along, thoughtful looks on their faces. “Will you be incapacitated once you have him turn everything off?” Sam asked.

Klaus hadn’t even thought of that. “Uh . . . actually, I don’t know. But if so, I’ve always been good at being the lookout on missions.”

Ben grumbled under his breath at that, looking irritated. Klaus wasn’t entirely sure why. Did he think he wasn’t all that good?

Well, then again, he was usually high out of his mind when he was playing the lookout on missions. Maybe Ben had a point.

Dean snorted and shook his head. “Well, having a lookout would be nice. If things go south, though, we just want to know if you can run away or not.”

“Oh.” Klaus shrugged. “No clue.”

Sam hummed and opened one of the compartments in the front. He pulled out a burner phone, one of  _ many _ , Klaus saw. “Here. Take this.” He held the device out to Klaus.

Klaus gaped as he took the phone. He had never had one before. They were allowed to have them at the Academy, sure, with specific numbers programmed in, but Klaus never had anyone he needed to call before. He had everyone he needed right there in the mansion. And when he left, he didn’t want to stay in contact anyway. Life on the street made having a phone too expensive anyway.

He turned it over in his palm, swallowing thickly. “Thank you, Sam.”

The hunter nodded with a neutral expression, like he hadn’t given Klaus something he never thought he would have. “We’ll get you a real one later. For now, use this one to contact one of us or someone who can help. Our numbers are already programmed into it, as well as a few other hunters.”

Dean smiled, pride shining through at his younger brother. Klaus was speechless, so he just nodded quietly and pocketed the device.

“Wow, if I knew a phone would get you to shut up, I would have given you one ages ago,” Ben spoke up.

Klaus shoved his brother. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the fact that he  _ can do that now _ . “Shut up, Ben.”

Ben laughed.

Night came a lot faster than Klaus thought it would. The four of them didn’t talk much after Sam had given him the phone, but Klaus was happy enough to people watch and fill the silence with mindless chatter. The hunters were annoyed at first, but once they learned to tune him out, they didn’t mind as much. He was like their own radio that didn’t require them to turn on the car.

Klaus giggled at that idea. He could be a great radio. A pink radio, though, because he had to have some class. Maybe with sparkles.

“You guys ready?” Dean asked Klaus, turning around in his seat. Klaus was brought from his thoughts and noticed how dark it had gotten, the streetlight above them flickering once. He glanced to Ben, who nodded determinedly. Klaus nodded to the hunters, and they all exited the classic car.

All four snuck up to the side of the building, Ben phasing through the wall as soon as they got close. Dean stood near the sidewalk, keeping an eye out for anyone who might think that they were up to something. Which, they totally were. Sam kept an eye on Klaus in case something bad happened.

Klaus closed his eyes and focused on Ben on the other side of the wall, feeling his brother’s soul faintly. He willed his brother to become corporeal (“ _ Really, Ben? Using big words I don’t understand? _ ”) and felt the familiar tug in his gut when Ben would become physical. He kept his focus until Sam’s hand patted his shoulder and he heard him say that Ben knocked on the window. He released his hold on his brother and instantly felt like he was run over by a bus.

“Oh, yeah, no, not doing anything for a while.” He chuckled humorlessly and leaned against the wall with a shiver. Had it always been so cold out?

“You good?” Sam asked worriedly.

Klaus waved a hand. “As good as I can be,” he said. “Go open the door so I can crash.”

Sam quirked a smile and did as was told, cracking open the lock with a swift twist of his crowbar. Klaus followed behind the hunters and met up with Ben inside, his brother giving him a worried look. Klaus gave him a thumbs up and a grin.

“You pushed yourself too far today,” Ben bit at his lip and paced next to him as Klaus leant against the really fancy wardrobe near the entrance.

“I’ll be  _ fine _ , Benny,” he said. “Just need a nap after all of this is over.”

Ben still paced, and Klaus didn’t stop him.

Dean had taken up position at the front window, keeping an eye out for anyone. Klaus knew that the hunter knew he wasn’t at top speed right now, but it still kind of hurt that the man didn’t trust him to be the lookout. He should probably talk to someone about his insecurities.

Eh, never did before, why start now?

“So, what’s the plan again?” Klaus asked the man.

Dean didn’t spare a glance his way, but the muscles in his jaw clenched. “Sammy had the idea to summon Mary to her mirror and smash it.”

“Huh. You don’t like that idea at all.”

“Nope, but I couldn’t think of anything else and . . .” he growled low and fidgeted with the crowbar. “I’m trying to be better at trusting him.” The hunter’s eyes met Klaus’s. “And you.”

The sincerity in his gaze was unexpected, but welcome. Klaus smiled softly, giving him a nod. “Thanks.”

Dean just grumbled and drew his gaze back outside. Klaus snorted. He really was just like Diego.

He knew the moment that Mary was summoned when he felt a harsh chill run down his spine and an aura of  _ evil, hatred, diediedie _ settled over the shop. He shot up like a live wire had run through him, eyes wide and breath hitching.

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“She’s here.”

Klaus didn’t wait to explain before he was running off towards the back where Sam had gone, heart pounding painfully in his chest and leaving Dean and Ben standing bewildered behind him.

“Klaus, wait!” Ben shouted.

He would  _ not _ wait. This ghost was  _ dangerous, _ and she had her attention solely on Sam. And damn him if he didn’t want his new friend to escape before the worst ghost Klaus had ever faced was going to tear Sam to shreds.

He could feel the bloodlust oozing from Mary, claws poised right above Sam’s neck, ready to strike.

“Sam!” Klaus ran in on the scene before him, Sam on his knees and the crowbar laying useless on the ground. Mary was there, in the mirror, smirking down at the man, her dark hair matted and covering her eyes so that only small pinpricks of white shone through. Her dress, torn and ragged, hung from her shoulders like a dying lily. Her skin was freakishly white, and looked more like leather stretched across sharp bone than human skin.

Klaus shoved the man behind him, blood already pouring down Sam’s cheeks. He didn’t even have any time to check on him before Mary’s full attention was directed at him. He gasped, head feeling like it was being crushed under a mound of brick, his throat constricting.

“You killed him,” a haunting voice rasped from the mirror. “You killed your own brother. Let him be torn to shreds by the monsters in his chest.  _ You’re _ the reason that Ben won’t be able to live a long, happy life.”

Klaus fell to his knees, choking on air and tasting iron. His cheeks were warm, rivulets of thick crimson trailing from his eyes.

Next to him, Sam breathed heavily while broken glass surrounded him like a broken halo. He struggled to grab the crowbar, likely wanting to help Klaus. He doubted the man would be able to do anything before Klaus was dead.

There was a loud crash, the sound of glass sprinkling across the floor, and then Klaus could breathe again. He coughed wetly as blood stopped pouring from his eyes, his head left with a killer headache.

“—laus! Klaus! Can you hear me?”

“Benny?” Klaus glanced up into his brother’s worried face. Ben collapsed with relief, reaching out to cup Klaus’s cheeks and being unsuccessful as his hands passed right through. It distressed him further, so Klaus made him corporeal.

“No, don’t use your powers right now, Klaus,” Ben grabbed Klaus’s hands despite his protest. “You’ve already used up so much energy today and you just about  _ died _ .”

Klaus shrugged and leaned into his brother. “But I want Ben hugs because they’re the best and make everything better.”

Ben tensed as the Horror shifted under his clothes, but Klaus didn’t care. He sighed and relaxed fully against Ben’s chest, which resulted in Ben making a strange warm sound and holding Klaus tighter.

“You okay?” Dean asked Sam, taking hold of the man’s arm. Sam nodded, winded and just as hurt as Klaus, if not more. “We’re talking about this--”

He was cut off by crunching glass and hissing. Klaus tensed and peeked around Ben to see Mary crawling through the broken mirror on all fours jerkily, her head twisted at an unnatural angle and mouth curled in a snarl. She stood at her full height and the intense pain returned. Klaus cried out while Sam and Dean stumbled. Ben’s grip on Klaus tightened.

Mary didn’t stop, shuffling towards them and twitching unpredictably. Her feet stepped across the glass shards, making the remaining pieces splinter. Klaus’s vision was whiting in and out, wave after wave of pain assaulting him. Rage like he’s never felt before exuded off of Mary like a ravaging storm.

They were going to die here.

At least it wasn’t at his father’s hands.

“ **_No_ ** ,” Ben said above him, letting go of Klaus and standing. Klaus nearly whined, but stopped at the strange way that Ben held himself. Something was off. He looked too stiff, arms laying loose off of his shoulders. His voice echoed, several voices mixing together into an amalgamation of rasps. It was ancient, yet youthful.

Klaus looked up, noticing the blood also pouring from Ben’s eyes. Ben’s eyes . . . that didn’t look like his normal dark brown, but rather, a startling dark yellow with slitted pupils. Klaus gaped.

_ The Horror _ .

Tentacles burst from Ben’s chest, catching hold of a very surprised Mary and tearing her to shreds. Those shreds were then shredded further until she was nothing more than a bloody mess on the floor. The pieces then melted into the floor, until nothing remained but shards of glass.

The pain vanished and Klaus slumped forward. Dean and Sam did the same behind him, Sam letting out a small huff of laughter.

“Well . . . you weren’t joking about the monsters in Ben’s chest,” he said.

Klaus chuckled. “As if I’d ever lie about Ben’s amazingness.”

Ben crouched down beside Klaus, worry written in every part of his frame. His eyes were still that weird, golden color, but he seemed like himself again. The tentacles that had destroyed Mary now wrapped themselves around Klaus’s thin body and cradled him to Ben’s chest. “Klaus?”

Klaus smiled up at Ben. “Thanks for the save, Benny. Extra waffles are in order, I’d think.”

Ben huffed a wet laugh, running his fingers through Klaus’s messy curls. “Idiot.”

“Yeah, but your idiot.”

Ben tapped his cheek in response.

“This has got to be like, what . . . 600 years bad luck?” Dean asked Sam before Klaus rightly passed the hell out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, two chapters in two days? I'm gonna burn myself out at this point (jk, I already had this all written out, it was just really freakin long and I didn't wanna overwhelm people with a super long chapter so suddenly).  
> Thank you so much for reading! I love the comments people send my way, even if it's just a small "I love this!", cuz it makes me feel appreciated. Am I getting too attached to the way people think about my writing? Mayhaps . . .


	11. Hello, Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get to know each other a little better. Bobby enters!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Oh we've come to intermission so it's time to stretch your toes. And if you are an aaaaaaardvark, you should also stretch your nose."  
> -Sandra Boynton

“What do you mean she had a thing for me?” Klaus asked, flabbergasted.

“Dude, she was totally leaning in for a kiss before we left,” Ben pointed out.

Klaus shook his head. “Nope. No way am I that oblivious.”

Ben scoffed. “You are that oblivious.” He frowned. “I don’t like that she was all up in your space, either. She’s still grieving her boyfriend.”

Klaus flung his arms wide. “Well it’s not  _ my  _ fault I’m so charming!”

“Oh, is that the word you’re going to use? I would have thought vexatious.”

“Benny,” Klaus whined. “You know I don’t know big words like that.”

Ben smirked. “All the more reason to use it.”

After letting Charlie know that the danger was gone and leaving her with a pleasant goodbye, the four piled into the Impala and set off once more for Bobby's place. Klaus wasn't too happy about it at first, until they told him that it was because they wanted more information on what happened to the other children that were born on the same day as him and his siblings.

"That, and we want you to meet him because Bobby is awesome," Dean said with a grin.

Klaus raised a brow. “Yeah? How so?”

“Well, for starters, he’s got the most knowledge collected on everything that goes bump in the night. If you have a question, he’s got an answer,” Sam said, smiling wide.

“He’s also the oldest hunter we’ve met, and still going strong,” Dean added. “He tends to provide cover on lies, like if we pretend to be law enforcers of some sort.”

“Like when you pretended to be FBI when visiting me in the hospital.”

Dean smirked. “Yep. If the staff had questioned it, we would have given his number to them to sell the lie.”

Klaus mulled over that. “Hold up, you said the oldest hunter you’ve met? How old is this guy?”

Dean hummed. “I think late fifties, early sixties?” He glanced to Sam. “Do you know?”

“He’s fifty-five,” Sam said.

Klaus raised a brow. “And he’s the  _ oldest _ ? You guys don’t know a whole lot of hunters, do you?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, but that’s not the issue. In this line of business, people tend to die a lot quicker and messier than others. Hunters just don’t get a happy ending with an apple-pie life.”

“That sounds awful,” Ben said.

Klaus relayed and agreed, “Sounds terrible.”

Dean shrugged and Sam just looked out the window. Something was up with Sam, ever since the shop. He hadn’t said a word about what Mary had gone after him for (though Klaus hadn’t said anything either, so who was he to judge?), nor did he seem to want to talk to Dean about anything. All the attempts that Dean had made were either ignored or given one word answers.

Sam would talk to Klaus just fine. He actually seemed pretty excited to talk to him. It made Klaus both happy and worried. Sam and Dean had a closer connection than Klaus did with any of his siblings back at the Academy, and he knew that this behavior wasn’t right.

Klaus didn’t know why, but he really didn’t like it. The atmosphere was heavy, and he hated that he couldn’t just summon Ben and have his more affectionate brother knock some sense into the older brothers (Ben banned him from using his powers after the shop incident since he had been out cold until noon, nose sluggishly bleeding, and skin unnaturally pale and cold to the touch). He supposed the only one available to fix things would be him. Try as he might, though, the atmosphere refused to shift into a lighter tone. Guess he’d just have to break it completely.

“Hey, did I ever tell you guys that I once shoved thirty-seven crackers in my mouth and downed an entire bottle of Jack Daniel’s all while trying to sing the Canadian National Anthem?”

The looks he got from the two up front was  _ hilarious _ . Klaus burst into uncontrollable giggles, the horrified faces staring back at him turning into complete befuddlement. Ben, at his side, joined in.

“Why on  _ earth _ would you do that?” Sam asked, lips twisted in a crooked imitation of a smile. Klaus supposed he was hoping it was a lie.

“I was dared to by this really nice fellow with a curly mustache and a unibrow,” Klaus said once his giggles died down. “He bet me twenty dollars. And, hey, free alcohol.”

Everyone tensed slightly at that. Klaus hummed and kicked his feet up so they lay between the Winchesters. “Yeah, he was a great guy. I think his name was Julio? Or maybe it was Jeffery. After like the second verse, he gave up trying to get me off the bar and handed me the twenty. Honestly, I was the best chorus girl they could afford.”

Dean smacked his feet off the back of the bench. Sam just snorted. Klaus pouted, but internally grinned when the tension dissipated.

“So, this phone, can I call anyone on it?” he asked.

Dean shrugged. “Sure. Oh, and before I forget--” The man pulled out his wallet and passed a few bills to Klaus. “Keep these on you in case we get separated again and you need food.”

Klaus gulped as he took the money, mind instantly cataloging how many drugs he could get from the small amount. Goosebumps ran along his arms and he hastily shoved them back towards the man. “Uh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

Dean didn’t take the money back. Neither did Sam. Instead, Dean threw him a determined look and said, “I want to trust you, Klaus. Besides, if you really want to get clean, you’ll be able to make Ben stop you before you run out for any . . . temptations.”

Klaus shook his head. “I never listened to Ben in the past. You think he’d be able to stop me now?”

“I think he’ll be able to physically stop you from leaving, yes,” Dean answered. The blind faith the man had in him was astounding.

Klaus glanced at his brother. Ben was smiling wide, pride in his gaze. Sam, too, seemed pretty sure that Klaus could be trusted with this. They all believed in him staying clean. It was terrifying.

He really didn’t want to disappoint them, like he had countless times before. He didn’t want to see that irritated or downtrodden look that his family had given him time and time again.

“O-Okay . . .” He pocketed the money. “Thank you . . .”

“No problem,” Dean said. The man’s smile only served to make Klaus guiltier. He squished himself down further into his seat, hunching his shoulders up to his ears.

“Now that I think about it, we should probably go clothes shopping, too,” Sam said. It was the first time he had started a conversation in hours. Klaus perked a little at that.

“You’re right. Klaus has only one change of clothes, and it’s all the same depressing black.”

“Hey!” Klaus protested.

Dean smirked.

“He’s got a point. Plus, I remember you telling me a few months ago how much you wanted to wear that neat red skirt in that one shop window.” Ben reminded him.

“Don’t call it  _ neat _ , Benny,” Klaus said with an air of flamboyancy. “It was a gorgeous red skirt that would compliment that checkered scarf we saw a few weeks ago.”

Sam raised a brow. “A skirt and scarf?”

Klaus nodded excitedly. “Yeah! Ben and I walked past this boutique like a month or two ago and we saw this really pretty red skirt that was knee length and had pockets, and the  _ flair _ ,” he pretended to swoon. “With that and the scarf, I’d be the hottest damn thing in town.”

They didn’t question his sense of style, though Sam did give him a curious look. “What’s it like, wearing a skirt?” the hunter asked.

Dean gave Sam a scandalized glance. “Nope. Only one of us gets to wear cute things, and it’s going to be the one that looks the cutest. You’re a giant of a man, Sam, and no matter how long you grow your hair you won’t convince me otherwise.”

“I wasn’t planning to! I like plaid, thank you very much,” Sam grumbled. “I just wondered.”

Klaus laughed, glowing with warmth at being called cute. “To be fair, it does feel less restricting, and you’d look badass beating up monsters in a rose-colored dress.”

Sam chuckled. “I bet. We’ll leave that to you, though. Like Dean said, I could never pull it off, and he’s got too much testosterone to try.”

“I would rock a tiara and heels and you know it,” Dean retorted.

After a good round of laughter, the car felt much more lively and the stifling atmosphere was gone. Klaus felt so safe with these two. Back at the Academy, Reginald would have beat him with that stupid cane had he walked around in skirts and dresses like he wanted to. The only ones who accepted that side of him were his siblings, especially Allison and Ben, who encouraged him and had fashion shows with him. Luther was the only one who was squeamish around the subject, but he always just chalked it up to “Klaus being Klaus”.

“Okay, they’re on my better side now,” Ben mumbled to him. Klaus nodded, feeling the same.

With a content sigh, Klaus pulled out the burner phone and raised a brow at his dead brother. “Do you remember the other’s numbers?”

Ben scoffed. “Of course I do. Who first?”

“Diego.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Should have guessed.” He relayed the number as Klaus punched it in.

Klaus hesitated to press the “call” button, nerves spiking. He hadn’t talked to anyone since the funeral, and no one had looked for him while he was gone. He just assumed that since he had been basically “heartless” during Ben’s service that they hated him now. Didn’t help that he tried to tell them that he could see Ben and they had rightly lashed out in anger towards him.

So, should he really call them? Would they be annoyed? Angry? Would they ask him to lose their number? What if they hung up as soon as they heard his voice? Or worse, they wouldn’t recognize the number and not even answer.

He didn’t know if he could handle something like that. He loved his idiotic siblings and didn’t want them to hate him more than they already did.

He apparently hesitated long enough that Ben grew concerned. “Klaus?”

“Hmm?” Klaus tried to give Ben a carefree smile, but his brother frowned and folded his arms.

“Just press the button.”

The façade faded. “What if--”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Ben said, smiling kindly. “Now talk to our knife-happy brother.”

Klaus chuckled and pressed the button before he could back out. He fiddled with his jacket sleeves as he waited for the call to go through.

He wasn’t prepared for the sound of his brother’s irritated voice to answer with a gruff, “What?”

“. . . Diego?”

Silence. A sharp inhale followed by clattering. “Klaus?” Diego’s voice cracked.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Klaus said. He smiled nervously.

“Oh my--” the sound was muffled when Diego shouted, “Guys! Guys, it’s  _ Klaus _ !”

There was more clattering and he heard someone running towards Diego. “Klaus?” Allison’s voice piped up.

Klaus raised his brows in surprise. “Wait, how many of you are there right now?”

“Everyone,” Diego answered. “Well, except for Vanya. She’ll be back soon, though. Man, Klaus, we thought you were dead or something.”

“When we hadn’t heard from you for months, we assumed the worst,” Allison added.

“So what happened?” Luther asked innocently. “Are you in rehab or something? You don’t have a phone, so you gotta be calling from somewhere.”

Klaus chuckled at the offended “ _ Luther! _ ” that Allison gave at that. His brother was right to assume, after all. “I mean, something like that. Not in rehab, but I am trying to get clean.”

“You are?” Diego asked, sounding surprised. “Um . . . well, good job, Klaus.”

“Yeah, we’re proud of you,” Allison said. She sounded like she didn’t quite believe him but was giving him the benefit of the doubt. Best he could get, he supposed.

Klaus chuckled again. They were all terrible at things like this. He decided to quit torturing them. “So, now I’m travelling the roads with two awesome dudes in their classic car and beating up monsters.”

The line went silent, the only sound faint breathing. He had to check to make sure the call didn’t drop, before Diego shouted, “You  _ what _ ?”

“Who are they? Do they know about the Umbrella Academy?” Luther asked.

“Why are you with strangers, Klaus?” Allison sounded so alarmed. “Where are they taking you? And  _ monsters _ ?”

“Yeah!” Klaus chirped. “Sam and Dean Winchester. They go around the United States and fight monsters! Like ghosts and vampires and stuff.”

“You’re not even in Canada anymore?” Diego demanded. “Where are you? I’ll go pick you up--”

“Aaaaand that’s my cue,” Klaus waved around a hand. “Just wanted to tell you all that I’m still alive and well. Or, at least, as well as I can be--”

“Klaus--!” All three voices shouted.

“Tootles!” He hung up.

Ben beamed. “That went really well!”

Klaus smiled back.

Sam found that he really liked Klaus’s presence. His mindless chatter wasn't annoying, not really, since they didn't actually need to pay attention, and it brought an atmosphere that felt wholesome. Safer.

Sure, he was hyper and quick to change subjects (Sam is fairly certain that he did it on purpose to avoid talking about certain things), but he was funny and eased tensions like it was natural. He was quick to compliment and knew what to say to help someone feel comfortable around him.

He could tell that Dean, especially, needed the soothing atmosphere that Klaus brought, since his brother was anxious about where their dad was. It didn’t help that the secret that Sam refused to tell was eating away at Dean. His brother looked like he was always seconds away from shaking the information loose from him.

He didn’t dare tell him, though. Not after . . . well, he was just terrified that he was even more of a freak than he already was, and that Dean would see that and kick him out.

He knew it was probably a dumb assumption, since Klaus was still there with them despite his powers (which he wanted to talk about with Klaus desperately), but Sam couldn’t help it. He had always been the freaky one of the family, not wanting to kill all the monsters they came across, not wanting this lifestyle, wanting to be a  _ lawyer _ of all things. With this secret, he could make things worse.

He bottled it all up, because he didn’t want what happened to be a weird, one-time thing and have it never happen again. Dean shouldn’t get involved unless it came back.

Maybe.

The rest of the drive was spent listening to Metallica and occasionally hearing Klaus talk to Ben. He had called someone earlier, and it sounded really important, so Sam had turned down Dean’s music and tried hard not to listen in. He assumed it was Klaus’s family, from the way he had nervously talked. He was a lot lighter once the call was over.

Once they pulled up to the familiar junk yard, Sam found himself smiling wide. He had missed Bobby. It had been two years since he had seen the grumpy hunter, and he wanted to spend some time just talking to him.

Dean pulled the car around to an empty space on the lot and parked it. Sam didn’t hesitate to step out and head for the door while Dean grabbed their supplies and introduced Klaus to the property.

It only took two knocks for Bobby to answer. The gruff man’s eyes widened when he saw Sam. “Sam . . .”

“Hey, Bobby,” Sam greeted with a big grin.

Bobby gripped Sam tight and hugged him fiercely. “It’s good to see you, boy.”

“You too.” Sam melted into the hug. Bobby smelled like motor oil and chili, a pleasant combination that reminded Sam of home.

Bobby gave him a hard pat and pulled back to get a good look at him. “How was the college life, son?”

Sam nodded, trying not to get choked up. “Good. I, uh, had a full ride.”

Bobby shook his head. “Always knew you would be doing great things with that brilliant brain of yours. What brings you here?”

He could sense Dean come up behind him before his older brother made himself known. “Hey, Bobby!” Dean clapped his hand onto Bobby’s shoulder, grinning wide.

Behind them, Klaus gave a hesitant wave. Bobby raised a brow.

“Bobby, meet Klaus,” Sam introduced. “Klaus, this is Bobby.”

Klaus smiled wide. “Enchanté,” he said with a bow. “And who’s the lovely lass?”

All three hunters exchanged confused glances. Klaus’s smile faded and he bit his lip.

“Oh,” he said. “I see.”

Sam understood immediately. “There’s a ghost here?”

Klaus nodded and straightened out. “I didn’t notice the blood stains until after I said something. Whoops!”

Bobby took a step forward. “What’s this about ghosts?”

Sam gave him a quick smile and placed a hand on Klaus’s shoulder. “Klaus can see the dead.”

Slowly, Bobby’s jaw dropped. “Like a psychic?”

“Yeah, but ten times cooler,” Klaus winked.

The oldest hunter looked around himself. “And, there’s a ghost here, now?”

Klaus nodded, then flapped a hand around. “But don’t worry! She won’t hurt anybody. She’s kinda like Ben!”

“Ben?”

Dean chuckled. “We’ll catch you up on everything. Now, where’s the chili? I can smell it from here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This chapter was rough to write. It was slow and I hate slow, so it was a struggle in punching it out on my keyboard. Hope it wasn't too hard to read.


	12. I'm Doin' Everything Right and I Can't Break Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karen is the best mom. Dean talks to John, but not in the way you'd hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this whole chapter was a mess, lol.

Bobby and the Winchesters were piled around Bobby’s coffee table in the living room (at least, that’s what he assumed it was), bowls of chili already eaten. They leaned back on the sofa, the older hunter looking bewildered at the knowledge dump the Winchesters shared. The blonde woman that Klaus met at the door waved politely to Ben as he entered, her chest dripping blood down her nice, flower-patterned blouse and onto the floor. He gave a hesitant smile in return, not used to other ghosts acknowledging him, and definitely not in a nice way.

Ben had left Klaus to explore the house, wanting to listen in to the conversation downstairs and trusting his brother not to suddenly combust if he wasn’t with him for five minutes. Didn’t mean he wasn’t anxious to get back to him soon, though. It was an itch, a knowledge that Klaus could be getting into something dangerous without knowing--or  _ with _ knowing, because it’s Klaus--and not having his brother there to protect him.

"So, the kid's a medium," Bobby stated. "I've met some psychics in my time; it's not so different."

Sam sighed and ran a hand through shaggy brown locks. "I wish it were that simple. It's more than seeing ghosts. He's able to make them real without them having any ill intent, and can send them away with a thought."

"And that's all we know so far. Who knows, he might have more abilities that we're unaware of," Dean said.

Bobby took off his ball cap and ran a hand over his beard. "That's . . . really useful."

The Winchesters nodded. Dean said, "If he can get a handle on all of the stuff that we do, he'd be a huge advantage in the fight."

"He’s still just a kid, though,” Sam brought up, which Ben rolled his eyes at. “Not that that’s a bad thing. We started young, too. It’s just . . .”

“We’d prefer it if the kid had a normal life for a bit longer,” Dean said.

“Sounds to me like he’s never had a normal life.” Bobby sat forward.

Sam shrugged his shoulders and picked at his nails. “Well, you know what we mean. As normal as he can get.”

Dean leaned forward into Bobby’s space and said, “We found the kid tied up, beaten to a pulp, and locked in the trunk of a car. His system was pumped full of drugs and he’s still having a hard time staying away from temptations, even though he’s been sober for almost an entire week.”

Bobby’s brows furrowed at that. “Kid was drugged?”

Dean shook his head. “Did it himself. He’s apparently been doing it for a long time, too. Please, Bobby, just take him in for a little while? Show him the ropes, let him be a kid. I don’t know, play catch with him or something.”

Ben snorted at that. Catch? Klaus was sixteen, not a toddler. 

He sobered. Then again, the activities they considered “fun” as children involved punching each other and trying to outdo everyone to be the best so they’d have a hint of their father’s pride. Maybe a game of catch would be good?

Bobby nodded and ran a hand through his hair before placing the ball cap back on his head. “Yeah. ‘Course. Every kid needs to be a kid. Even kids that have the ability to talk to the dead.”

Sam chuckled and Dean just smirked. “Thanks, Bobby.”

“There’s more, though,” Sam said. “But that can wait. I’m sure we all need sleep, especially since Dean hardly got any on the way here.”

“Hey,” Dean frowned. “You didn’t either, waking just about every five minutes from another nightmare. Which, by the way, you won’t talk to me about.”

Ben bit his lip. The brothers were starting to get riled up from the same argument they had multiple times on the drive here. Sam keeping secrets from Dean, Dean wanting to be the strong older brother and not let anything “weak” show. Klaus had helped a little by breaking through the tension, but once the teen was asleep, Sam’s and Dean’s conversation would once again become strained. Without Klaus here right now, Ben was basically useless, and his brother wouldn’t ease the situation.

Bobby sighed and knocked them both upside the head. Ben blinked in surprise while the woman giggled behind a pale hand.

“Ack! Bobby!” Dean complained.

Sam just looked so shocked that Ben couldn’t help the small scoff that escaped him.

“Stop bein’ idjits,” said Bobby. “Your rooms are where ya left ‘em. Get some shut-eye before ya do somethin’ stupider.”

Ben grinned wide. Oh, yeah, he was definitely going to like Bobby.

Thoroughly chastised, the younger hunters got up from the couch and headed for the stairs. However, before they could climb, Klaus shakily made his way down and entered the room.

“Klaus?” Sam tilted his head.

If Ben had blood, it would drain from his face. He knew that look. It was a  _ bad _ look. His heart sank. “Klaus . . .”

“H-Hey,” Klaus gave the room a crooked grin. “Um . . . Do you guys have like a lock and chain or something? And maybe a lamp?”

Ben felt his eyebrows lower, suspicion creeping in.

“Uh . . . yeah, I got some stuff that might help ya,” Bobby spoke up. He narrowed his eyes. “Why wouldja need that, though?”

“‘Cause I found all the alcohol in the house and I don’t think I can stop myself from downing it all at this very moment,” Klaus blurted. He scratched his arms hard, to the point that Ben was nervous he would draw blood.

“Klaus.” Ben took a step forward, arms outstretched as though he was calming a frightened cat. “We aren’t going to lock you away in a room.”

A laugh bubbled up from Klaus’s chest, his eyes crazed. “It’s either that or I die of alcohol poisoning!”

Ben winced and Klaus’s smile fell. “Sorry. Sorry, Benny.”

“Well,” Bobby stepped forward, drawing the boys’ attention. “We can take all the alcohol in the house and lock it up somewhere you won’t find it. Is that what you’d like us to do?”

Klaus shook his head and his shoulders slumped forward. “That wouldn’t work. I’d still somehow find it, and I might get desperate enough to try and attack someone. I don’t trust myself enough right now to not do something I’ll regret.”

“So . . . What do you want us to do?” Sam asked gently, taking Klaus’s hands into his own to keep the boy from scratching. Klaus looked up, surprised at the soft gesture, and got a smile in return.

He bit his lip. “Well, whenever it got this bad, Daddy dearest would lock me away somewhere until it passed. Although, usually he did it to get me sober, but I’m sure the same thing applies here.”

Ben gagged, rushing forward to grab Klaus’s shoulders. His hands passed through. “Dad is an asshole! You cannot  _ possibly _ think that his ideas were good!”

Klaus shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it? And yeah, Dad’s always been the biggest douche, but I can’t think of anything else right now.”

Sam squeezed Klaus’s fingers, which effectively brought his attention to the hunter. “That . . . We can’t just  _ lock you away _ . That’s . . . no.”

Dean nodded. “We’ll think of something else.”

Klaus’s lips turned down, his head shaking before Dean finished. “No. You guys don’t understand. I won’t just  _ stop _ if you tell me not to. I might summon ghosts or something. I will  _ definitely _ attack you.”

“Kid’s got a point,” Bobby said. Ben whipped around, betrayal cutting at him and anger bubbling up. Sam and Dean seemed equally upset. “Listen to what I have to say,” he held up his hands.

“I don’t want to. Clearly, you’re just as insane,” Ben hissed.

But, of course, much to Ben’s frustration, Bobby didn’t hear him.  _ No one _ heard him. Only Klaus. And his brother was an  _ idiot _ .

“Right this second, we don’t have a plan for when something like this happens. Klaus does. It’s not the best solution, but it’s all we got. I say we allow it this once, and if it happens again we’ll be more prepared.”

And to Ben’s surprise and horror, Sam and Dean seemed to agree with that, though reluctantly. Klaus smiled.

“No! You can’t do this!” Ben rounded on Klaus. “I won’t allow it. I can’t allow it.”

The bookshelves rattled in time with Ben’s growing ire. Condensation escaped Klaus’s lips. Ben didn’t care. 

“Hey, Benny, calm down . . .”

“Calm down?  _ Calm down _ ? No.” He threw an arm out and a glass cup shattered. “You’re locking yourself away? Do you know how screwed  _ up _ that is?”

“Ben, seriously, you need to calm down right now,” Klaus sounded upset, eyes flicking to something behind Ben. 

But Ben was more upset. Klaus’s feelings didn’t matter right now, because he was being stupid and Ben needed to protect him, even if it was from himself. He growled and a few tentacles slipped out from under his shirt, wiggling around excitedly at their newfound freedom. “ **We won’t let this happen** .”

Klaus’s eyes widened. “Ben . . .?”

“Shh . . .” Arms wrapped around Ben from behind, soft pale skin brushing against leather. Surprised at the contact, Ben tensed under the embrace and the Horror responded by trying to attack whoever it was that was trying to hurt him. 

They passed harmlessly through her.

The woman that had been following Bobby around pressed her face into Ben’s dark locks, tightening her hold. “It’s okay. Everything will be okay.”

Confusion and hurt and worry warred inside Ben, but no matter how hard he tried to tug away from the woman, she somehow held on tighter. Did she have superhuman strength like Luther?

Ben wanted her to let go. He needed to get Klaus to understand. He couldn’t just let his brother be locked away forever and never let out and the monsters come and hurt him and say words that make him want to  _ kill himself _ \--

She kept repeating soothing sounds into his ear, but it wasn’t until she started petting his hair that he completely broke down. The gentle touch cracked something in his chest, and without realizing it, he turned fully into her embrace and returned it with his own bone crushing hug. He curled into her like a lost child, tears streaming down cold cheeks.

“There you go. It’s alright. I’m here.” She folded him into her lap as they sunk to the floor. “You and your brother are safe.”

It was strange. He didn’t feel heat from her, nor did he hear a heartbeat, and yet he felt comforted in the best way possible. It reminded him of Mom, the woman who had raised them and took care of them and yet was a robot built by their father to do those things. From this woman, it felt genuine. He didn’t know he needed it so badly until then.

The cold seeped from the room almost as fast as it came, the bookshelves settling and the tension draining away. The arm that Dean held up to stop Bobby from charging forward with an iron poker fell to his side. Klaus had tears dripping down his cheeks, and Dean feared the worst.

“Did you . . .” he waved his hands around. “Send him away?”

Klaus sniffled and shook his head. He brought the sleeves of his jacket up to wipe at his face. “No. Ben’s okay now. We’re safe.”

There was something in that last sentence that had a deeper meaning, but Dean wasn’t sure what it was.

“I’m not entirely sure what just happened, but let’s not do it again,” Bobby said. He twisted the iron poker in his hands before looking up to Klaus. “So, want the bigger guest room tonight?”

Klaus chuckled wetly and nodded. “Please. And I’ll still need that lamp.”

Bobby smiled. “You got it.”

They set Klaus up in Sammy’s guest room, the smell of musty old books overwhelming. “Ugh,” Dean scrunched up his nose. “How can you stand being here?”

Sam snorted. “It’s actually a calming scent to me, thanks.”

“Nerd.”

Klaus seemed to like it, though. “Benny loves books! This is like his wet dream.” He paused, then burst into laughter. “Don’t be shy.”

“It’s Sammy’s too, I bet,” Dean said. Klaus’s smile only widened while Sam sputtered. Dean grinned.

“I don’t need to know the details,” Bobby grumped. “Well, kid,” he said, changing the subject. “We’ll be right here if you need anything.” He lifted the chain and lock he was going to wrap around the door.

Klaus’s mood shifted. Sweat beaded along his brow. “Um . . . actually, maybe this isn’t such a good idea?” He shuffled for the door. “On second thought, I think I’ll be just fine.”

“Hold up,” Dean held out his arm and stopped Klaus from leaving. Klaus’s reaction was instant.

With a jerk, Klaus hissed and back away like Dean had burned him. “Hey, man, listen--”

Dean raised a brow, hands coming up in a placating manner. “Klaus--”

“Nope, nope, I’ll be just fine. This was a bad idea. I just need like a sip and I’ll be all good, yeah?”

“Klaus,” Sam stepped forward and placed his large hands on those ridiculously thin shoulders. Klaus tensed under the touch, face pinched and eyes glancing around rapidly. “Klaus?”

“Just a small sip? And we can forget about this whole thing.”

“Dean, leave the room,” Bobby whispered. Dean’s eyes widened and his lips twisted.

“What? No way.”

“Dean,” Bobby’s tone indicated he wasn’t messing around. “Leave. We’ll handle this.”

Dean’s muscles coiled, but he understood that he’d just get in the way right now. A shout from Klaus made him hesitate.

“No! Let me go!” Klaus wriggled in Sam’s arms.

“Bobby--”

“Go, Dean,” Bobby said before he hurried to Sam’s side. The familiar blue glow began to seep into Klaus’s veins, and Dean had to force himself to leave. He closed the door behind him, then paced.

Shouts and grunts, along with shuffling feet, had Dean pacing harder. He didn’t like being useless like this. Once he heard flesh thumping loudly against a hard force and Klaus’s pained whine, Dean had enough and left the upstairs hallway.

He walked. He walked for a long time, pent up energy keeping his movement steady. At some point, he realized he wasn’t on Bobby’s property anymore, but he kept walking.

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number that he had tried time and again to reach, but never got through to.

“ _ This is John Winchester. If you need help, call my son, Dean . . . _ ”

Dean wanted to throw his phone. He wanted to cry. He was overwhelmed, Sam was keeping secrets from him, and Klaus was in pain. He just wanted his dad here to fix things.

But he didn’t throw his phone, and he didn’t cry. Instead, when the dial tone sounded, he choked around the lump in his throat and said, “Hey, Dad.

“I know you’re probably busy,” he ran a hand down his face. “And I know that you probably won’t see this. But . . . Dad, I could really use your help. Sammy’s got something weird going on with him, and he . . . he lost his girlfriend. She died the same way that Mom did. I’m worried for him.

“I know what you’ll say. ‘Keep your brother safe’. I know, and I’m trying. I really am. But it’s so  _ hard _ . I’m just me. If the thing that got Mom is targeting Sammy for some reason, I don’t know if I’m strong enough to keep him safe. And you know I’d die trying to keep that kid safe.”

He took a moment to hold back tears, his bottom lip wobbling. “We have a new friend, though, that might be able to help,” he went on. “The kid’s a superpowered sixteen-year-old who can see the dead. But he’s so fragile. Stick thin and sickly looking and too soft inside. He’s got so many addictions to bad stuff that he’s having trouble keeping sane. I don’t want to involve him in this, but he’s determined to prove himself or something. He has abilities that are hurting him, and has been alone with only the ghost of his dead brother for too long. I . . . I can’t help but see little Sammy whenever I look at him.

“Dad, if you could just . . . stop in for a while, just so we know you’re still  _ alive _ . We keep getting little messages from you, but . . . That’s not enough. Please, just--”

Another beep sounded and Dean knew he had been cut off. He threw his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you're curious about why Ben's tentacles didn't work against Karen, it's not that she's a super ghost or something. With Bloody Mary, Klaus made Ben corporeal before he started to attack, which is why it worked or whatever. Am I bs-ing this? Yes. Yes I am.


	13. But Now I Got A Bellyache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus is upset. Sam gets an email from an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one is kinda short I feel like. I'm dealing with some emotional and mental problems right now, so it was a struggle to get through this one. I used a big chunk of dialogue from Supernatural ep 5 to try and beef it out a little.   
> I love reading people's ideas and theories about what it would be like having Klaus in this universe. I have to say, some people brought up some stuff I didn't even think about. <3

Klaus was pissed. He was hurting everywhere and he was scared, but overall he was so angry that Sam and Bobby locked him away. Didn’t they see what this was doing to him? Did they want him to die?

“You asked for this, you know,” Ben said softly, perched on the bed with a book. Karen, the blonde woman that they had met, was standing to Ben’s side, humming a tune and fixing the bed up for Klaus. Klaus’s hands glowed a faint blue.

Klaus whined and curled up further into himself, stomach aching and head pounding. “Shut up.”

The wastebin that Klaus had thrown up in earlier (causing Sam and Bobby to book it and lock the door as they went while he was distracted) rested where he had left it, sitting there innocently, and Klaus wanted to kick it over and let his vomit spill all over the nice carpet. He wanted it to smell up the whole room and stain the floor, a representation of his ugly feelings. The only reason he didn’t was because Karen would be sad and she was the only one to stay with him--other than Ben, of course--and he actually really liked her.

Another wave of nausea had him lurching for the trashcan, and wet heaves filled the empty room. Karen tutted and knelt beside him, cooing softly and rubbing his back to try and soothe him. He tried his best to keep the tears at bay.

Puking was never a pleasure. He hated the smell and the acidic taste and the whole ordeal. When sober, or getting there, it was ten times worse. It felt like his insides were trying to rebel, a fire erupting from his stomach and crawling painfully up through his throat. Sometimes (a lot of the time) it would spill out of his nose and cause his eyes to water uncontrollably.

Needless to say, it was not an experience he wanted to go through ever again, but knew it would happen many more times in his life.

“What I wouldn’t do for a line right now,” Klaus spat any remaining bile into the bin, then flopped onto his side once more.

“Why are you throwing up anyway? You’ve been sober for a while now,” Ben flipped the page in his book.

Klaus shrugged. “I mean, I was forced into sobriety in a medical setting. Maybe it’s a delayed reaction?”

Ben frowned. “I don’t think so . . .”

Klaus groaned and pressed his face into the carpet. “Benny,” he whined. “I want it to stop.”

“I know,” Ben said, voice sympathetic and  _ understanding _ , and it made Klaus want to cry. He didn’t.

“I want to be numb again.”

“I know.”

They let the quiet fill the room while Klaus whimpered on the floor and rolled around in misery. There wasn’t much either of them could do, so Ben provided silent support while Karen hushed Klaus with soothing sounds. He wouldn’t admit it, but it helped wonders.

After Ben’s breakdown earlier, Karen basically took the role of Resident Mom. She helped Ben in the ways that their mother no longer could, and she helped Klaus in the ways Grace never did. It was something neither knew they needed most.

He never blamed Grace for the programming that Reginald forced on her. He knew that Reginald disabled her from helping Klaus after a nightmare, or stepping in when he was taken to the mausoleum, or hugging him when the ghosts became too much. The only thing she was allowed to do was clean him up of drugs by locking him in his room and periodically bringing in soup and a plastic smile, and to heal him of any injuries he might collect.

Karen, though, was allowed to do whatever she wanted. She could comfort whoever she wished whenever she wanted, and she took to it like breathing. Or, whatever the ghost equivalent was.

“Why are you so nice, Karen?” Klaus asked.

Karen gave a warm smile. “I’m just doing the right thing.”

He loved her even more for that.

Sam sat heavily in the armchair in Bobby’s living room with a sigh. His phone dinged, and he swiftly pulled it out from his pocket, hoping it was a text from his brother, or at the very least good news.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Bobby said as he pulled a jacket over his shoulders. “If your brother turns up before then, let ‘im know that the kid is okay.”

“Where are you going?” Sam asked, phone forgotten for the moment.

“Picking up some supplies from the store,” he patted his pockets, then moved around the room in search of, presumably, his keys. “Ginger Ale, crackers, soup, maybe some over the counter medicines.”

“Why?” Sam wrinkled his brow.

Bobby paused at the door and turned about. “Because I’m pretty sure that boy upstairs is sick and he needs some help.”

“Sick? I thought he was detoxing.”

“You said he was sober for about a week?” At Sam’s nod, Bobby said, “He would be through with detoxin’. He may be cravin’ right now, but I have my suspicions that he’s got ‘flu.”

Sam swallowed. “And we just locked him away in a room.”

Bobby flapped a hand. “I’m takin’ the beer with me. I’m gonna let ‘im out when I get back. We just gotta keep an eye on him for a bit.”

“Wait, you’ll let him out? He got pretty violent . . .”

Bobby just rolled his eyes. “If he tries to go for my eyes again, I’ll put ‘im in a hold. He may think he’s stronger than he looks, but he’s still a twig. His trainin’ ain’t gonna get him far if he’s delirious anyhow.”

Sam quirked a smile and watched as Bobby walked out the door. He brought his phone up and checked his messages. It was an email.

It wasn’t Dean.

It was Becky.

Confused and a bit alarmed, Sam opened the email and read it with growing confusion. 

“Hey, Sam,” the message read. “Wanted to update you; wasn’t sure if you’d heard the news. Zach was arrested for killing his gf. Sounds crazy, I know--but he’s charged with murder. Cops say they have DNA, fingerprints, . . .”

He stopped reading. Zach? Murdering his girlfriend? That was ridiculous. They had been together for so long. Last he heard, he wanted to marry her. What brought this on?

“What are you doing?” Dean’s gruff voice said from the kitchen. Sam didn’t bother a glance, humming thoughtfully.

“Reading emails.”

“Emails?” Dean sat next to Sam, soda in hand. “From who?”

“From my friends at Stanford.”

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?”

Sam looked up from his phone, giving his brother a shrug. “Why not?”

“Well . . .” Dean popped open the cap to the bottle and took a swig. “What exactly do you tell them, you know, about where you been and what you’ve been doing?”

“I tell them I’m on a road trip with my big brother,” Sam said simply. “I tell them I needed some time off after . . . Jess.”

He waited for the wasp nest he poked at to get angry, but his brother just shrugged. “Well, so you lie to them.”

Affronted, Sam’s lips twisted into a pout. “No. I just don’t tell them everything.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah. That--That’s called lying.”

Sam’s pout deepened into more of a frown.

“Hey, man, I get it,” Dean took another sip and sighed. “Telling them the truth is far worse.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” Sam asked. “Just cut everybody out of my life?” When Dean gave a shrug in response, Sam huffed. “You’re serious.”

“Look, it sucks,” Dean said with a small laugh. “But in a job like this, you can’t get close to people.”

Sam huffed again and turned in his seat so his back faced his brother. “You’re kinda antisocial, you know that?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean used the tone of voice he tried for whenever he was trying to sound cool. 

Sam finished reading the email. “. . . fingerprints, all kinds of evidence. He didn’t do it!! This all feels so unreal. Just thought you’d like to know.”

“Is she hot?” Dean asked, startling Sam. He saw his brother leaning over to get a glimpse at his phone.

“It’s Rebecca, one of those old friends,” he said, ignoring Dean’s question and subsequent  _ yeah, I read the top _ . “I went to school with her and her brother Zach.”

“Charged with murder?” Dean read. Sam wished his brother would give him space. “Dude, what kind of people do you hang out with?”

Sam shook his head fiercely. “No, man. I know Zach. He’s no killer.”

“Well, maybe you know Zach as well as he knows you.”

That sent a nauseous feeling through Sam’s stomach.

“They’re in St. Louis. We’re going.” Sam’s tone held no arguments.

Dean chuckled. “I’m sorry about your buddy, okay? But this does  _ not _ sound like our kind of problem.”

“It is our problem,” Sam argued. “They’re my friends.”

“And what about Klaus, huh? Are we just gonna leave him behind while we go galivanting two states over to help somebody who we probably can’t help anyway?”

Sam leveled him with a look. They both knew this look. Sam used it often to get what he wanted. Dean caved, though he tried his best to ignore the look and remain steadfast. Sam will give him points for stubbornness.

“Klaus will be fine,” Sam reassured Dean as they started packing the Impala. “He has Bobby and Ben. This won’t even take very long.”

“You better be right,” Dean grunted, shoving his duffle into the trunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question: Would having both sides (Klaus and Ben, Sam and Dean) of this story be enjoyable to read? Since Sam and Dean are basically going to go through the entirety of the episode "Skin" without Klaus. Otherwise, it will be back and forth Ben and Klaus while Sam and Dean are away and what goes on with Bobby.  
> Or, I could write Bobby's POV as well? Idk, comment any ideas you've got.


	14. Coming Down With the Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus is really sick and Ben can't do much to help. Bobby saves the day with soup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo. I know it's not a usual update day, but since I'm quarantined home, might as well write, right?  
> It seemed like most of you guys preferred getting the story from Sam and Dean when they got back instead of having to rehash things, so I added Bobby into the mix. Yay!

Klaus was starting to look worse, and the longer Ben waited for signs that he would get better, the longer Klaus went without any help. Not for lack of trying, however.

Klaus was becoming delirious. Ben and Karen flickered out of corporeality a half hour ago (luckily after they got Klaus tucked into bed), and now they were left to simply watch as he groaned and buried himself deeper into the covers.

Sweat poured off of his brother, creating a sheen along his fevered skin. His cheeks were rosy, but his face had lost all color. His eyes were closed, but Ben knew he wasn’t asleep just yet.

“Beeeeen,” Klaus whined.

“I’m here, Klaus,” Ben sighed, wishing he could card his fingers through his soft curls. Curls that were sticking to his skin in clumps.

“Hurts.”

“I know,” Ben said through a lump. “I know.”

There wasn’t anything they could do. Karen gave a great sigh before she flickered out of the room. Ben stayed seated next to his brother, praying that someone would come in soon to check on his brother.

This wasn’t withdrawal. Klaus was sick, and Ben didn’t know how or why he suddenly got so sick. Klaus had always had a crappy immune system, which was only heightened when he started getting into the heavier drugs. The only thing that he could have gotten sick from is the last alley that they travelled through--

Wait. The school. Hadn’t Reginald always told them that they couldn’t go to a public school because it was teeming with germs? It was practically a petri dish for diseases.

Well, Reginald also said that they were too good for the schools, having learned from the best of the best about everything they needed to know. He doubted that knowing how to use different kitchen appliances to kill someone was something that needed to be learned, but whatever.

Could he even trust anything Reginald said? He was a terrible person and an even worse father. If he said that public school was bad, was it really? 

It seemed okay to Ben. He even enjoyed spending a morning in the classes meant for kids their age. Sure, they already knew just about everything that was covered, but it was still the most fun he’s had since he died.

Well, other than the time that Klaus bought him a little cupcake for their sixteenth birthday . . .

Klaus moaned and shivered violently, eyes opening for just a moment only to close again. His eyes were unfocused and hazy. Dilated.

Ben sighed, and waited.

Bobby returned about an hour later, bags of groceries hanging off his arms. He had cans of soup, some medication he hoped Klaus would be able to take, enough cans of ginger ale to last through an apocalypse, and just about every known trick in the book to keep a sick teenager happy. The only reason he took so long was because the lady in front of him in the check out lane had taken her sweet old time trying to choose between two brands of bubble wrap.

The beer stashes he had throughout the whole house had been shoved into the trunk of his truck and then dumped out by the side of the road. He was honestly impressed with Klaus wanting to become sober. Having come from a family that was led by an alcoholic, he understood what addictions could do to a person. Klaus having to go through that at such a young age . . . It was heartbreaking.

Bobby dropped the bags off on the kitchen table, then ran a hand down his face. He snagged a can of soup and started to prepare it, the house quiet except for the occasional creak of wood shifting or the bubbling from the radiator. He sighed, glad for the peace, but also a tad worried that the kid wasn’t making any sounds from the room upstairs. “Jeez. I’ve grown soft in my old age.”

A cold shiver ran down his spine, and he grumbled. He needed to check his radiator again. The dumb thing tended to break down more often than not, and with the end of the year coming up soon, he’d have only so much time before all the stores would be overflowed with last minute Christmas shoppers.

Not that he really  _ wanted _ to get rid of the thing. It still worked . . . sometimes.

Once the soup was ready, he ladled some of it into a bowl and plopped a spoon into it. He grabbed the medicine and trudged up the stairs.

As soon as he opened the door to Klaus’s room, he was overwhelmed with the smell of vomit. He gagged, but he’d smelled worse, usually in the form of a corpse or black dog. Still didn’t like it, but he wasn’t about to run from the room.

Placing the bowl down on the bedside table, Bobby knelt next to the teenager. He looked . . . well, dreadful, really. Pale as a sheet, cheeks flushed with fever, and sweat coating every inch of skin. When he put a hand to the boy’s forehead, he cursed.

“You’re through the roof, kiddo,” Bobby grumbled. He popped open the medicine and took out two pills. Hopefully it would get the fever down. If not, Bobby could always just use a cold towel.

“Come on, kid,” Bobby grunted, shaking Klaus gently. “You gotta take these pills and try to get some soup in ya. Then you can sleep.”

Klaus whined and blinked blearily up at Bobby, but didn’t really see him. The sight of the pills, however, had the boy grabbing and dry swallowing them in a rough motion. The kid sighed in relief, probably thinking that he was going to become high.

“Damn.” Bobby tapped Klaus’s cheek. “Hey, no sleeping yet, kiddo. You gotta get some fluids in ya first.”

“‘M not a kid,” Klaus slurred, head rolling to the side to look at Bobby. He grinned sloppily. “You got a funny beard. I want one too.” He giggled.

Bobby frowned. “My beard’s fantastic.”

“Fuuuuuuuunny!” He cackled and then coughed harshly. His pale skin turned green and Bobby barely got the trash can under Klaus before he threw up. Bobby grimaced when he noticed the two pills come up with the bile. He awkwardly patted Klaus’s back, trying for comfort but probably failing. Dammit, he wasn’t meant for this kind of stuff.

Klaus leaned back into the bed, exhaustion pulling at his eyelids. Bobby snapped his fingers below the boy’s nose, startling him. He smiled.

“Hi. I need you to take these,” he held up two more pills, “and drink some of this,” he pointed to the soup.

“Don’t wanna.”

“Too bad.”

Klaus frowned at him, then at the air behind Bobby. “No fair. Why are you and Ben teaming up against me?”

Ben. That was the name of Klaus’s dead brother, the one that was everything to Klaus. Sam had explained that where Klaus went, Ben went too, otherwise there would be hell to pay.

Sounded pretty familiar to him, really.

“Nooooo, not you too!” Klaus sniffled. He glanced to the foot of the bed with a pout. “I just wanna sleep.”

Bobby gave the pills to Klaus, who eagerly took them again, then held up the bowl of soup. “I promise that once you take a few sips of this, you can go back to sleep.”

Klaus’s eyes flicked between the bowl and Bobby. “. . . Really?”

Damn this kid and his adorable face. “I swear it.”

Klaus seemed to ponder over it for a moment, before he gave a small nod and reached for the soup. Bobby held it out of his reach, though, Klaus’s shaky hands halting in mid air.

“Ah, ah,” Bobby held up a hand. “I’ll help you. Don’t want ya spillin’ it all over your front.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Klaus grumbled. “ _ Fine _ . At least someone is treating me like the princess I am.”

Bobby snorted. “What?”

Klaus folded his arms. “You heard me. I’m totally the princess here, although maybe the resident mom can compete. No, wait! She’s the queen!”

Bobby’s brow furrowed. He chalked it up to delirium. “Eat your soup.”

Klaus willingly ate the spoonfuls of soup that Bobby fed him, only commenting every now and again. Bobby found that the kid couldn’t stay quiet to save his life.

He was able to get just about through the whole bowl before Klaus whined that he didn’t feel good. Bobby had the bin ready just in case, but Klaus just flopped back into bed and swallowed through the nausea. Poor kid refused to puke again, complaining that it made him hurt and that the taste was awful.

“But if you throw up, your body will get rid of a lot of the bad stuff and you’ll feel a whole lot better,” Bobby pointed out.

Klaus just whimpered and buried his face into his pillow. “Don’t wanna.”

Bobby sighed and nodded. “Alright. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

The boy just snuggled in deeper and closed his eyes. Bobby stood up with the now cold soup and the trash can and left the room. He placed the bowl outside the room and went to the bathroom to clean out the bin.

Ben laid down beside his brother and hummed a tune that he hadn’t heard in years and was pretty sure he got wrong in several places, but it seemed to keep Klaus calm, so he kept humming. Karen had left the room with Bobby, the latter taking the bin with him. Ben assumed he was going to clean the poor waste bucket. It sure needed it.

Klaus looked much better after Bobby had come in. He had even talked about stuff that wasn’t nonsense . . . for the most part. He did say something about a rabbit and a man in red playing checkers at one point.

Ben hadn’t heard from nor seen Sam or Dean since Klaus was locked in here, but he was grateful that Bobby had come in to check on Klaus. He was relieved that the locks were taken away, too. Bobby was quickly gaining more points in Ben’s book.

Bobby had given Klaus something, which sent red flags up, but as soon as Ben read the label on the medication he relaxed. Bobby was a saint and was only trying to help Klaus feel better. He had given Klaus soup to keep him from dying, gave him medicine to keep the fever down, and was taking care of Klaus the way that only Mom had done for them back home. Ben could cry because  _ someone _ was doing it.

Now, Klaus was asleep buried under layers of blankets, and Ben was content with the knowledge that he was safe here. Ben could let down his guard and just . . . relax for once. 

He should probably feel guilty that he wanted to relax. He should probably also feel guilty that he was glad Klaus was sick right now so that the hunters could get rid of anything addicting in the house.

He did feel guilty that he couldn’t do more for his brother. He felt guilty that he was dead.

As though he had a choice in the matter, really.

Still . . .

Bobby reentered the room with a fresh bin and a glass of water. He set the water next to the packet of medicine and sat down on the bed, right beside Klaus. Ben couldn’t quite place the expression on the man’s face, but he knew it was soft. His heart glowed with warmth when Bobby ran his fingers through Klaus’s curls.

. . . It also shriveled with jealousy.

It was Ben’s job to look out for Klaus and take care of him. It was his job to comfort his brother when he was hurting. Watching someone else do it brought out uncomfortable and ugly feelings in Ben. Though he was grateful for all that Bobby had done so far, he was encroaching on what Ben should be doing but couldn’t.

Why did he have to die? It wasn’t fair. He was still young, too young, and hadn’t done all the things he wanted to. He hadn’t bought an apartment to share with Klaus, didn’t have time to read all the books he had on his list, didn’t even get the chance to think about what he wanted to do after the Academy.

It made him want to break something. It made him want to lash out and hurt someone. It made him want to tear apart the world and scream at the sky.

It made him want to cry until there was nothing left.

“Shh . . .” Karen’s soothing fingers carded through Ben’s hair, her smile soft and understanding. “I know, baby, I know.”

Ben curled around his brother while he let Karen continue to calm him down. He couldn’t touch Klaus, could no longer feel his brother’s warmth. He may still be here, but he was just a shadow, an imitation of what he once was.

“You know,” Bobby whispered, still messing with Klaus’s curls. “If Karen were here, my wife, she would absolutely adore you. You and your brother. Same for the other two knuckleheads.”

He stared off at nothing, mind far off and imagining the sweet smile he missed so much. “She wanted kids, ya know. I . . . was too afraid that I’d end up like my daddy to give her the thing she wanted most. We got into an argument about it.” He huffed, the memory of that night twisting his heart painfully. “We didn’t make up before she died.

“She was the light of my life. If I could go back, I’d make her dream a reality in a heartbeat,” Bobby looked back down to the sick teen. “Maybe . . . I’m doin’ all of this so I can ask for forgiveness from her. Show her that maybe with time, we coulda had somethin’ even better than what we had, ya know?”

Klaus snuffled in his sleep and bumped his head against Bobby’s hand, making the older hunter chuckle fondly. He scratched at Klaus’s scalp, the younger sighing in pleasure.

“You’re a cute kid,” Bobby said. He stood up, knees cracking annoyingly, and he stretched until he heard a satisfying pop in his back. “Welp. I’ll be back in a while to check on ya. Gonna go look up that stuff on umbrellas or whatever that Dean wanted.”

He left the room quietly, keeping the door open just a crack in case Klaus made any sounds of distress in his sleep.

Karen started wailing downstairs soon after she and Bobby left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'll update again on Thursday (I hope). Got some new ideas about some stuff, so . . . exciting!  
> If there's inconsistencies or things that don't make sense, comment any issues. Please and thank you.


	15. My Words Can't Be Heard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karen is soothed. Ben is scared about what he might become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I literally have no idea where this mini plot is going. I want some insight into ghost ideas I had, but I also feel like I'm making Ben afraid of everything all the time. Please let me know if it feels like that to you, too.

He was floating, high above the clouds. He must have taken something again, and it must have been  _ good _ . Ben would probably give him a lecture once he came back down.

Something niggled at the back of his mind at that thought, but he just shoved it away so he could enjoy the feeling.

Although, the high felt kind of wrong. Maybe there was something laced in it? Maybe that’s what was niggling at him. Oh well. He was far, far away, where no ghosties could get to him--

A woman began to wail.

He scrunched his nose. That wasn’t right. No ghosts should be able to affect him when he was like this. They got all muted and mellow. All except for Ben.

If anything, the woman got louder.

Where was Ben, anyway? He usually stuck around even when Klaus was high . . .

Wait, where was  _ he _ ? Everything was kind of dark. And outrageously hot. Which didn’t make much sense, since usually it was cold when it was this dark, right?

“Ben . . .” he whimpered.

The wailing was growing towards screaming levels, and he just wanted her to  _ stop _ . 

“I’m here, Klaus,” Ben said softly, worriedly. “Open your eyes.”

Open his eyes? Weren’t they already open? Wait, no . . . He squeezed them once, the vague light he could see through his lids disappearing.  _ Ah. _ Yes, they were closed.

He squinted them open the tiniest bit, immediately focusing on his brother. “Hey.”

Ben smiled, relieved. “Hey yourself.”

Klaus smacked his lips. “What did I  _ take _ ? And why isn’t it working?” He shoved at the blankets that held him down, a whimper in his throat. “And why am I so  _ hot _ ?”

Ben blinked, then chuckled. “I guess your fever broke. Good.” His brother shifted closer and sat up. “You didn’t take anything, Klaus. Well, other than flu medication.”

Klaus frowned. “Then why do I feel so . . . loopy?”

With a snort, Ben said, “Probably because the fever was really intense. And you’re still sick.”

Almost as if to prove his brother’s point, Klaus let out a harsh, hacking cough that left him breathless. Nausea swept through him soon after, and he swallowed several times to keep bile down.

The wailing wasn’t stopping.

“Ugh,” Klaus moaned, flopping over on the mattress. “Who’s screaming?”

Ben pursed his lips and Klaus raised a brow. “It’s Karen,” he whispered.

Worriedly, Klaus shifted until he could prop himself up on his elbows. “What? But . . . Why?”

His brother shrugged, looking just as upset as Klaus felt. “She’s been wailing ever since Bobby left the room. I think it’s a reaction to what he said earlier.”

With a tilt of his head, he asked, “What did he say?”

“He mentioned Karen, and how she wanted children. Said he felt regretful or something because he never gave her any children before she died.”

Klaus hummed, then blinked. “Wait, what’s the connection between Bobby and Karen?”

“They were married.” Ben tucked his legs in closer to his chest. “She died before he could apologize to her over a fight they had. He blames himself for her death, I think.”

His heart sank to his toes, understanding filling his core. He wondered why the hunter would feel that way. In Klaus’s case, well . . . it was really his fault Ben died. But from what he had seen, Bobby had been nothing but caring, if not gruff in execution. He couldn’t imagine the surly hunter having been the reason his wife died.

Karen had a knife wound embedded in her chest. Several wounds, actually, from what Klaus could tell. She also died young, late twenties at the latest. Poor Bobby must have been absolutely heartbroken.

Klaus shivered. Did she die because of a monster? A robbery? Some incident in the kitchen? Klaus wanted to ask her what happened, eventually.

For now, Klaus needed to find out how to calm her down. Her screams were becoming more and more angry the longer he waited, and he refused to have her crumble into one of the insane monsters that haunted him. She was . . . well, she was too sweet for a fate like that.

“Help me outta bed, Benny,” Klaus waved a hand out towards his brother, softly glowing.

Ben frowned and shook his head. “That’s not a good idea, Klaus.”

“What? Why?”

“You’re sick, and I doubt you’ll be able to make it downstairs on your own. Plus, you’ve been throwing up non stop since you got up here.” Ben picked at his shoelaces. “I think you should stay and rest.”

Klaus pouted. “Yeah, but when have I ever listened to your advice.” He swung his legs off the bed and onto the plush carpet. Ben scrunched his nose, annoyed, but not stopping him.

He stood on shaky legs, proud of his achievement, only to immediately fall to his knees. He shoved the feeling of nausea down, refusing to throw up even as his body gagged reflexively to his cramping stomach.

Ben sighed and knelt at his side. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

“Shut. Up. Ben.” Klaus burped and slumped against the bed. Ben held up his hands, but the smug look in his eye didn’t fade. It irked Klaus to no end.

Taking several moments just to breathe, Klaus eyed his brother. “Fine. What would you suggest I do?”

Ben shrugged. “I could just go down there for you, find out what’s wrong. Intel gathering.”

Klaus hummed, nose pinched. “Alright,” he nodded, then regretted the movement. He waited for the room to stop spinning before continuing. “Makes sense.”

Ben grinned and pretended to pat Klaus’s shoulder. He stood from the floor and hurried out the door, leaving Klaus behind.

Klaus hated being sick.

Being dead had its advantages, Ben would admit. He could walk through walls. He could listen in to conversations he normally wouldn’t be privy to. He could find out information that would normally be hard to collect otherwise. He could deactivate alarms and stuff, like at the store in Ohio.

Creeping down the stairs and ignoring the urge to cover his ears the closer he got to Karen (it wouldn’t help any), he metaphorically swallowed down the fear that her screams produced.

Being dead was awful. Ghosts couldn’t be heard. They couldn’t touch unless they were driven to anger and madness. They couldn’t be seen. They were left to rot away into nothing but shrieking shadows.

He peeked around the sliding door to Bobby’s living room, getting a full view of what was going on. Karen was tearing at her blonde ringlets, jaw near to the point of being unhinged as an unearthly scream bubbled up from deep inside and into the empty air. Blood gushed from her wounds, splattering against the floor only to disappear in mere seconds. Her eyes, wide and crazed, rolled around in her sockets like they were loose marbles. Her skirt looked like it had been torn, slashed even, instead of the pristine folds it had been before. Her skin looked greyer, paper thin and ice cold.

Oblivious to it all, Bobby muttered something and flipped another page in his book.

Ben shivered. He wasn’t sure how she went from pretty and composed to insane in a matter of moments. Perhaps there was a trigger that Bobby had said that set her off? If that were the case, should he and Klaus just allow it to pass? Or should they try to talk to her, try to get her out of whatever hell she was trapped in?

The Horror wriggled around in his stomach, curious about what was making him afraid. He patted absently at his middle, a habit he had when he was still alive, and told them to hush in a quiet voice.

Karen’s head snapped to him and he froze. Her wailing stopped, face completely blank. If he still had a heart, it would be pounding in his ears at her searing, unblinking gaze, probably in an attempt to leap out of his throat.

A chill passed between them, neither making a move.

Had she heard him?

Did she even recognize him?

He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.

“Ben? What are you doing down here, silly? You should be upstairs with Klaus.” She smiled, and her visage flickered. One moment, she was pallid and torn, the next she had bits of color to her cheeks and her skirt whole again. The only thing that remained was the gaping wounds in her chest, no longer dripping blood.

To the best of his ability, Ben tried to give her a warm smile. It didn’t work, as her pallor shifted just the slightest. He gulped.

“We were worried about you,” he answered truthfully. “You hadn’t been up for a while.”

“Oh,” Karen blinked in surprise, then her cheeks glowed with a bright grin. “No need to worry, dear. I was just talking with Bobby.”

His eyes flicked back and forth between Bobby and Karen, goosebumps trailing up his spine. Talking. She . . . thought she was talking to him.

A lump formed in Ben’s throat, eyes burning. Fear and worry and overwhelming  _ sadness _ crashed into him, and he couldn’t do more than nod. “R-Right,” he said around the obstruction. “Could you come up with me? I’m sure that Klaus would love the extra company.”

Karen hesitated, biting her lip. “Well . . . I do want to make sure he’s alright. Bobby did a good job earlier, but he’s such a busy man that he sometimes forgets the little things easily.”

He smiled. “Klaus is pretty forgetful, too, and he likes to tune me out sometimes. He probably won’t take care of himself unless someone reminds him.”

With a hum, Karen glanced back at Bobby, then walked towards Ben. “Then we need to make sure he’s okay.”

Ben led her back towards the stairwell as she twittered about how her husband had once forgotten about her mother’s birthday and how he had to scramble for a gift last minute. Ben tuned her out, questions about what happened to ghosts after long periods of time--and how deep their psyche went--circling around in his mind.

Mostly, though, a seed of fear rooted itself deep into his heart, right next to his fear of the Horror.

Would he eventually become like that? Not even realizing that he wasn’t speaking, but instead screeching and wailing, trying to be heard through the veil?

Klaus’s head perked up when Ben reentered, Karen in tow. She seemed much calmer now, and Klaus beamed at the sight from where he had dragged himself back onto the bed. “Hey! Glad you’re back.”

Karen bent down next to him with grace that he wished he possessed, and smiled gently. “You’re looking much better now. Did the medicine help?”

Klaus nodded. “Loads. Still really nauseous, though.”

Karen cooed and went to brush his curls back. When she wasn’t able to touch, her form flickered for the briefest moment. Klaus’s eyes darted to Ben, who had inhaled sharply and bit his lip. Ben shot Klaus a worried look, mouthing ‘ _ tell you more later _ ’ to him. Klaus’s smile didn’t falter, having built a careful mask years ago that he could summon up on will, but his heart did a flip-flop at that. Just what happened downstairs?

“Oh my. Well, it’s to be expected, with something like the flu.” She hummed and stood from her hunch to go to the side table. “Bobby left you plenty of water. Could you try drinking some? We don’t want you to become dehydrated.”

With a nod, Klaus reached a shaking hand up to the glass, then took small sips from it. He only had a few before his skin turned ashen and he placed the glass back down. “Mm, yeah, gonna hold off on that.”

“Thank you for trying, Klaus,” Karen said. “Even small sips is enough for now.”

Klaus shyly nodded, heart warming. No one had told him trying was enough. If he didn’t do things to perfection, he was a lost cause.

Well, he  _ was _ a lost cause, but that’s besides the point.

“Hey, Karen?” Klaus asked hesitantly.

“Yes, dear?”

“Would you mind . . . telling me a story?” His cheeks warmed. He hoped that didn’t sound as childish as it felt. “I mean, it’s really boring at the moment, and I kind of can’t go further than the bed, so I can’t get a book. That and reading sucks unless someone is reading for you.”

He heard Ben scoff. He mentally flipped him off.

“Of course,” said Karen, her voice similar to melted butter. “What would you like?”

“Well, what about stories from when you were growing up?” Klaus smiled. Usually, those stories were always good. Way better than his childhood, he’s sure. Nine times out of ten, he would get a story that sounds like it came out of fantasy despite being mundane playground tales.

“Hmm, well . . . I suppose I can start with the day my parents took me to the zoo . . .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I love all the comments that people send, and I keep every single one of them. It makes my day <3


	16. You'll Think of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of stuff happens. Vanya!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited, long ass chapter for ya *yeets it your way*  
> Enjoy

Nothing. Nothing about mysterious births happening within history, nothing about a Reginald Hargreeves, not even a mention of superpowered siblings. Not relating to the Hargreeves children, at any rate.

He poured over everything he had, down to the stuff he didn’t think mattered in the context. So far, the only information he had gathered was from John’s book and any other hunters he had reached out to.

What he had didn’t really make a pretty picture.

A lot of child deaths, a lot of mistreating and torture, and then stuff about the Umbrella Academy.

The Academy itself was almost something of a legend in Canada. A home for gifted individuals, run by a man named Sir Reginald Hargreeves, who had bought up an entire block just to build a mansion to house these kids. Each child had abilities and superhero names.

There was Spaceboy, the eldest (he assumed) and the leader of the group. He was said to have super strength and could crush a man’s skull in his bare hands. In interviews, he was usually the one that took questions that were difficult to answer or the others weren’t allowed to answer. He was confident in his abilities and stood at attention behind his father like a soldier.

Next was the Kraken. Latino in features and sharp tongued like the knives he carried, the boy was like their sharpshooter or something. His ability to never miss a target with one hundred percent accuracy, even from another room, was frightening to imagine. He was usually not allowed to answer questions in interviews, but when he did, he usually kept the answers clipped and straightforward.

Then there was the Rumor. Bobby was quite alarmed by her ability, to be frank. With just a few words, she could control a person's actions or thoughts. Mind control was something he hated to begin with, after what happened to Karen . . . He didn’t stay long on anything relating to the girl.

The Séance, he assumed, was Klaus. Being able to see the dead and comfort the hostages, his job was mostly kept out of the action. He always looked so confident and proud in front of the cameras, Bobby had to wonder what happened to him to look so haunted. Although, being chased by ghosts for all of your life could do that to a person, he supposed. Poor kid.

The Boy, not given any other title, was said to have gone missing and presumed dead at the tender age of thirteen. It was terrible. Heartbreaking. They had a memorial service that the public was allowed in on, which sickened Bobby, but he was beginning to see that Hargreeves just didn’t care. The Boy had spatial teleporting abilities, but he was mostly an unknown.

And last, but not least, was the Horror. Just the name alone was enough to have Bobby reeling. Apparently, no one really knew what he was capable of, since he usually did his job when the hostages were safely in the care of the police. There were theories and vague ideas, but no concrete proof. There was only one picture that he found online that showed him after a fight, and Bobby had to take a moment just to breathe. He was  _ covered _ in blood, head to toe, and wouldn’t look at anyone as if ashamed. Bobby wanted to take that boy and clean him, then hug the life out of him.

The Academy had been thriving for years, but every time a hunter went to investigate or go after the children, the hunter would mysteriously disappear. Considering Klaus never mentioned anything about hunters, he assumed that the kids never even saw any. He shivered, thinking about how Klaus had been alone on the streets where  _ anything _ could get him, not just the drugs.

It had been a few months since any new information was put out about the Academy, the teens not having gone out much. Rumors spread that something bad had happened, and Bobby could assume some things. It most likely had to do with Klaus.

Speaking of . . .

“Balls,” he stood up abruptly from his desk and shuffled some papers around to hide what he was doing. He forgot to check in on the kid.

Lucky for him, when he found himself just outside the room, he heard Klaus  _ not _ in whimpering pain, but . . . laughing?

He gave a hesitant knock on the door before he entered. “Klaus?”

The laughter died away when Bobby entered, Klaus’s face red with mirth and eyes sparkling. Bobby tried his best to keep his smile hidden. 

“Bobby! Hey, we were just talking about you.” Klaus patted the bed space next to him. “Join us?”

“We?” Bobby frowned. “Ben in here?”

Klaus grinned. “Yep! And another who I think you’re gonna like.”

Bobby frowned, but sat down in the spot as asked. “Uh, how ya feelin’?”

“Good!” Klaus nodded. “Still nauseous, probably gonna get that fever back, but I’m ready to start trashing the runway.” He struck a pose.

Bobby snorted. “Sure. So, what have you and Ben been up to while I was gone?”

Drawing the blankets up to his middle and wrapping his arms around his knees, Klaus hummed. “What indeed,” he waggled his brows. Bobby raised an eyebrow. Klaus pouted but answered, “We were trading stories. Silly stories, mostly, like the time that Luther got stuck in a tree.”

“Luther? Is that the other ghost’s name?” Bobby glanced around the room, nervous that he would see any around the room.

Klaus shook his head. “Nope. This one definitely has more fashion than Luther.” He gestured to a spot next to him. Nothing was there. “Luther is our brother. He has monkey brains.”

“What?”

Klaus laughed, loud and boisterous. “Your--Your face! Oh my--” he cackled, to the point that he started coughing violently. Bobby scrambled for both the glass of water and the trash can, but Klaus just waved him off.

“I’m good, I’m good,” he let out one more hack, then leaned back against the headboard. Bobby hesitantly put the items back, but kept an eye on Klaus.

“So, brother. Cool,” Bobby nodded. “Which one is he? You had like four of ‘em, right?”

“Luther is the leader. Big and brawny  _ Number One _ .” Klaus stuck out his tongue. “He tends to remind us every five minutes of how important he is, being dad’s favorite and all--” He cut himself off, head cocked slightly. “Yeah, like Ben said. Kind of an ass.”

“Ah,” Bobby nodded, “So, Spaceboy?”

Klaus’s head whipped up, eyes narrowed. “How’d you know about that?”

Bobby shrugged, trying to come off as casual. “Been doin’ some research on you and your siblings. Nothin’ too deep. Just wanted to know some more about ya.”

Klaus’s nose scrunched up. “If you wanted to get to know me, you just had to ask. No need to stalk me.”

With a small quirk of the lips, Bobby shook his head. “Nah, nothin’ like that. Dean asked me to, in case we needed to know if someone was after ya.” 

“He thinks someone is after me? . . . Who?”

“Hunters,” he answered truthfully, knowing the kid wouldn’t want to be kept in the dark. “You and your siblings were kept safe while in your old man’s care, but now that you're out here, that may change.”

“Wait, wait,” Klaus waved his hands around. “I knew they went after us a long time ago, back when we were born. Sam and Dean mentioned it in the car. But they think that there are  _ still _ hunters after us?”

Bobby winced. “Actually, I talked with a few hunters that tend to keep in contact with me. There  _ are _ still hunters after ya.”

All the energy seemed to leave Klaus at once, and he fell back against the headboard. Worry filled Bobby’s chest, and a need to comfort the kid sprung to the forefront of his mind. Though, when he reached a hand forward, Klaus shook his head.

“Sorry, I’m okay,” he said. Bobby didn’t believe it, but he let the kid go on this one. “I just . . . Really? All these years, the old man kept us from being murdered, but only because he wanted us for his goals.”

Klaus shivered, head titled just so, and any color he had was gone in a flash.

“Klaus?”

“Vanya,” Klaus gripped his blanket in a tight fist. “ _ Vanya _ . Wh-Why was she protected by dad? She doesn’t have any powers! And--”

Klaus suddenly lurched for the bin at the side of the bed and retched. Bobby patted his back awkwardly until Klaus had emptied his stomach. He didn’t bother pushing himself back up into a sitting position, exhausted. Fear traced his features. “Vanya is going out into the world more. What if a hunter finds her? She can’t protect herself!”

He worked himself up into a tizzy, trembling and blinking rapidly. “Hey, hey,” Bobby placed a warm hand on his shoulder, grounding him to the moment. It worked, Klaus’s eyes finding his own.

“Vanya will be fine,” Bobby insisted with a squeeze. “Your daddy won’t let anything happen to her.”

Klaus was shaking his head before he even finished speaking. “You don’t understand. Dad  _ hates _ Vanya. She was always the useless one, more so than me, because she didn’t have any powers. If she gets into trouble, she’ll be defenseless and could die and none of us would know until it showed up on a news report or something-- _ sixteen year old daughter of billionaire Reginald Hargreeves dies in freak accident all alone on her way back from violin practice _ .” Klaus gripped his hair. “I didn’t even talk to her over the phone the other day!”

Bobby gave his shoulder another squeeze. “She won’t be hurt, Klaus.”

“How do you know?” Klaus asked, voice small.

Bobby said, “Because the hunters don’t know that she’s related to you all. They only know that six of you were under the care of Hargreeves for sure. The seventh was just elusive to them. In fact, some think that the last one has some sort of invisibility powers.”

The sudden bark of laughter, nearing hysterical, startled Bobby. “Invisibility! If she were to have one, invisibility would make the most sense. She’s so mousy and small and . . .”

The trembling stopped, but Klaus still looked really spooked. Bobby sighed and got up from the bed. “How about I leave ya be so you can call her? I’m sure she’ll be really happy to hear from ya.”

Klaus nodded, scrambling for his phone. Bobby left him to it, closing the door on his way out to give the boy some more privacy.

Bobby sighed and scratched his beard in thought. Hearing about Vanya was . . . strange. Something didn’t add up. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that Reginald kept the girl out of love, but the man didn’t seem very loving based off of Klaus’s comments. So then, why  _ did _ he protect her? If she wasn’t useful for the man, why keep her under his roof?

He was thrown from his musings with a loud ringing. Trudging down the stairs, he grumbled about never getting a moment's rest. Really, he was only one man!

He picked up the phone from its cradle on the wall. It was his private number, so he didn’t bother with a façade. “Singer,” he barked.

“Bobby!” Sam’s frantic voice filtered through the speaker. “Hey, how’s Klaus?”

Bobby’s brows furrowed. “You good, kid?”

“Yeah, yeah, just having a--” he grunted, “just busy at the moment. Something stuck to my shoe, you know?”

Being followed? “Um. Well, kid’s fever broke. He’s calling his sister right now.”

“Good, that’s good,” Sam’s voice disappeared for a moment, the clanking of metal and police sirens in the distance the only sound. A heavy thud, then Sam said, “So he’s safe?”

“Yeah. ‘Course he is. Sam, everything okay? Why wouldn’t the kid be safe?”

“Well, uh, looks like Dean and I got into a bit of trouble on this hunt. So, now Dean’s a wanted man and I’m on the run to catch this thing, alone, while he hides from the cops.”

“Whoa, hold on,” Bobby held up a hand, though Sam couldn’t see. “ _ Wanted _ ? Just what happened on this hunt?”

“No time to explain. I’ll catch you up later, Bobby. Gotta go.” And with that, the phone cut off.

Bobby held the phone out, just staring at it. “. . . Idjits!”

Klaus had never been so happy to hear his little sister’s voice.

“Hello?” her voice was so quiet, timid.

“Vanya!” he chuckled nervously, tugging on his curls. “Hey, so good to hear you.”

“Klaus?” she said a little louder, confusion mixing into her tone.

“Yep, the one and only. Sorry I missed you last time. I was in a bit of a rush.”

“Last time?”

Klaus frowned, “Yeah, I called a couple of days ago. The others said you were at practice?”

“Oh,” she went quiet for a moment. “They didn’t tell me.”

Disappointment and anger swirled in Klaus’s gut. Or maybe it was nausea. “Well, now I’m calling just you. So you can have a conversation with your favorite brother all to yourself.”

A small giggle rang through. Something lifted in his chest. “You’re not my favorite, Klaus.”

“Et tu, Vanya?” Klaus dramatically placed a hand on his forehead. “I am betrayed, astounded! I thought for sure after that incident in the kitchen with the macaroni art sealed the deal.”

The giggles grew, and with it, Klaus’s smile. It was nice to hear her laughter. When was the last time she laughed? He wanted to make her laugh a lot more.

“Why did you call me, Klaus?” she asked, then backtracked. “Not that I don’t want to hear from you! I just . . . I would have thought that you would want to talk to the others instead of me.”

Klaus made eye contact with Ben, who just shrugged at him.

“I wanted to talk to  _ you _ , Van,” Klaus answered honestly. 

“. . . You did?” And wow, did that hopeful tilt to her voice make something twist in Klaus.

“Yeah, of course I did,” Klaus whispered. “I love you, Vanya. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

He heard her take a sharp breath, then some shuffling from the other end before she came back with, “Repeat that.”

“What?”

“Repeat what you just said. Right now.”

His mousy little sister had never demanded anything before. It was a surprise, one he kind of liked. “Uh, I wanted to make sure you were okay?”

“No, before that,” Vanya shakily said. “The part where you said you . . . loved . . . me.”

“Oh.” He relaxed his shoulders. He didn’t even know he had tensed up. He felt his face heating up. “I love you, Van.”

“. . . Do you mean that?”

“Of course I do.” Hadn’t he always told his siblings he loved them? Did they never believe him? That . . . really hurt. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she sniffled. “Yeah, just had a rough week.” She took a long breath, held it, then let it out in one big whoosh. “Sorry, Klaus. I didn’t mean to get all weird on you.”

“No, no! It’s fine. I kind of liked you taking charge like that.”

She giggled, and he smiled big.

“Seriously, though, Van. Are you alright?”

“Yes, I am,” she sounded just a tad exasperated, but, knowing her, she wouldn’t tell him that she was annoyed. It’s something he loved about her. He knew it was unfair, but he was selfish like that.

“Well . . . how has practice been? I didn’t get to talk to you about it last time.”

“Oh! Well, I haven’t improved very much since . . . since you left.”  _ Since Ben died _ . “But I have a spot on the junior orchestra now. Hopefully, fingers crossed, I’ll be having a concert for Christmas.”

Christmas. Having lived on the street for months, he had no idea how close or far away the holiday was. He was basing it off of store windows and how decorated they were. Well, soon after Halloween, the Christmas stuff went up, so he really had no clue just how close it was. In fact, he thought it had already happened at this point.

“Really? That’s awesome, baby sis!” he cheered. Ben quirked a brow, not really able to hear the conversation. “Uh, and when is that, exactly, in relation to today?”

“Christmas? . . . Do you not know what day it is, Klaus?”

“Nope,” Klaus popped the ‘p’. “Not a clue.”

“It’s the 23rd,” her tone shifted to something concerned. “Klaus, where are you?”

His heart sank. There was no way he’d make it in time for her concert, unless he took a plane. He had no money and no way to get there. “I’m . . . safe.”

“You hesitated,” now she was really worried. “Klaus, what’s going on?”

“I’m so sorry, Van,” he coughed, hoping he could get rid of the lump in his throat. “I won’t be able to make it to your concert.”

“Klaus!”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m fine. Great, in fact. Sober! But I’m not going to make it. Can . . . can you film it for me? Please?” He didn’t want to miss his little sister’s first, real concert.

“. . . Of course. I could probably ask one of the orchestra members to send me a video that one of their parents filmed.” Something rustled. “Are you in rehab?”

He laughed breathlessly. “That’s one way to put it, yeah.”

She still seemed nervous for him. It warmed his heart, but she really had no reason to be concerned. “I . . . really didn’t think you’d bother.”

“Bother with what?”

“Me.”

“Oh, Van.” He sighed. “You’re my baby sister. And if I could, I would be at your concert.” He ignored the small,  _ we’re the same age _ , she gave him. “In fact,” he looked wildly around for a pen and paper, before he mouthed to Ben,  _ help me remember _ , to which Ben nodded, “How about I check in with you every weekend like this? Like, every Friday or Sunday or something.”

She sounded surprised when she said, “Really? You’d want to check in  _ every _ week?”

“Yeah, I think it would be a good idea.” He pushed down the niggle in his mind that said he only wanted to check in to make sure she was safe and not dead. Sue him, he wanted his little sister to be okay. “You can gossip about the latest sibling drama, or orchestra drama, or whatever drama you come across, and I can brag about how well I’m doing while sober, and we can have a thing going!”

It was silent on the other end. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, hoping that she wouldn’t just suddenly hang up on him. He sighed in relief when she said, “Okay. Sure, Klaus. I . . . I’d really like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Giddy relief flitted about his chest. “Great! Okay. So, every weekend?”

“Yeah.”

“I promise I’ll never miss a week, okay?”

Her quiet and hopeful “thank you” sealed the deal, and Klaus beamed.

“I love you, Van.”

“I’ll talk to you next week, Klaus.”

Klaus waited until she hung up, then stared at the cell phone for a long while, not really believing that happened.

“What did you talk about?” Ben asked. “I mean, I pieced together some of it, but . . .”

“Yeah . . .” Klaus finally looked up from the phone. “Vanya has a concert on Christmas. Apparently today is the 23rd. And now Van and I have a thing set up for every weekend.”

Ben gave him a bitch face. “I got  _ that _ . Why did you have an emotional rollercoaster, dumbass?”

Klaus’s face heated. “Hey, I’m not calling  _ you _ any names.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’ve called me several names, actually, including Death Breath.”

Klaus chuckled. “Yeah, that was a pretty good one.”

“Just tell me what had you all over the place.”

“Probably the fact that our other siblings didn’t tell Vanya that I called. Or that, apparently, I don’t tell her that I love her enough.”

“You tell her and the others that you love them all the time.”

Klaus threw his hands into the air, barely missing his nose by inches. “I know! I think she thought I was joking or something, because she seemed so surprised to hear someone tell her they loved her.”

Ben frowned, then looked down in thought. “Well . . . Considering only me and Five ever really paid her any attention, perhaps she didn’t believe you before. I mean . . . actions speak louder than words, no matter how loud those words are said.”

Klaus pouted at the slight about his loud tendencies. “Well, now I’m going to tell her as many times as I can. And check in, just to . . . you know, make sure she’s safe.”

With a pitying face, Ben said, “What Bobby told you really shook you up, huh?”

“Duh. I can’t lose any more siblings, thanks.”

Ben sighed and crawled closer to Klaus so he could curl up next to him. Klaus made him corporeal, if only so he could hug him to his side.

“It’ll be okay, Klaus.”

“I hope so, Ben. I really hope so.”

Bobby waited a good hour or so before he went back upstairs to check on Klaus. He brought food with him this time, and some ginger ale. Listening closely for any signs of talking, he hesitated, but didn’t hear anything. He peeked his head into the room and was startled by what he saw.

There, curled up with each other, was Klaus and a blue-outlined person that was just slightly smaller than him. The new boy glanced up when Bobby came in, his eyes dark and all too knowing, and he leaned in to whisper something into Klaus’s ear.

Klaus turned his head to see Bobby, and he smiled brightly. “Hey! You’re back!”

Bobby shuffled into the room, eyes locked on the new boy. “Hi, Klaus. Um . . . who is this?”

“This is Ben!” Klaus squeezed the boy. “Say hi, Ben.”

Ben. The  _ dead _ brother. The boys weren’t kidding when they said Klaus could make ghosts visible. It made Bobby’s hackles raise on instinct, but he tried his best to not let his nerves get the best of him. Ben was safe, according to Klaus, so no need to grab the nearest shaker of salt.

Ben gave him a shy wave, then hid himself behind Klaus. Bobby’s heart softened just the slightest bit.

“Hey, Ben,” Bobby whispered when he was close enough to the boys. “Wow. So, you didn’t show me this before.”

Klaus grinned mischievously. “Once I can build up my ability a bit more, I’ll have you meet some more people. For now, it’s only Ben. Well, unless I’m stressed or something. Then I don’t really have control.” He frowned. “I’m working on it.”

Ben smacked Klaus’s shoulder. “Give yourself credit, Klaus. You couldn’t get rid of ghosts without popping pills before, but now you can send them away if you want. You’ve been practicing really hard, and I’m really proud of you.”

Bobby agreed with his brother. “He’s right. You can’t get good right away. Give it some time. I’m sure you’ll knock everyone’s socks off soon enough.”

The teen looked much more relaxed now, and smiled genuinely at their words. “Thanks, guys.”

“Brought ya some more soup,” Bobby held up his spoils. “You should get as many fluids in ya as you can.”

Klaus nodded and held a hand out for the bowl. He was a lot less shaky this time, so Bobby handed it over.

“The ginger ale might also help calm your stomach. Take some more meds with it.”

“Yes, dad,” Klaus rolled his eyes, and Bobby tried to ignore the fluttery feeling in his heart.

“Be nice,” Ben chided. “He could easily kick you out, you know.”

“He would never!” Klaus gasped. “Someone has to give this place joy. It’s so . . .  _ stale _ and  _ old _ .”

“Did you just call me old, boy?” Bobby teased.

“No, no,” Klaus waved a hand around. “Of course not. But this house? Yes. We need to spruce it up a bit, give it some more  _ color _ . Oo! I know! Let’s get some fairy lights and a giant red teddy bear for the front room. Maybe some new wallpaper? Let's do it in a theme of some sort!”

Bobby snorted, and Klaus tilted his head to listen to someone. It wasn’t Ben. He wondered who he was talking to.

“Fantastisch!” he clapped his hands. “Yes, a woodsy feel. Like a little cottage in the woods. It’s going to look so nice.”

“Why the giant teddy bear?” Bobby had to ask.

“Why, because you surly hunters need something to hug when emotions get too much. I understand that talking about feelings sucks, ergo, a bear to squeeze frustration away and a buddy for when sad!”

Bobby just shook his head, meeting Ben’s eyes. Ben just shrugged and smiled fondly at his brother, like  _ what can you do? _

“Oh, yes, can’t forget,” Klaus grabbed Bobby’s attention when he became serious suddenly. “Bobby, we need a tree.”

“Uh, why?”

Klaus rolled his eyes, like it was obvious. “Because it’s  _ Christmas _ soon. We need to go all out! Karen demands it.”

Bobby’s blood turned to ice. “. . . What?”

“Yeah, she says that since we all forgot, like the silly boys we are, that we need to set up a big tree and actually celebrate this year.”

With a choked gasp, he stood from the bed in a rush, eyes darting around the room like he might spot the woman. “Did--Did you say  _ Karen _ ?”

“Yeah, Karen, your wife . . .?” Klaus sat up, looking worried. “Bobby, are you okay?”

Karen died. She died  _ years _ ago.  _ Decades _ , even. He had already mourned her, had already said his goodbyes. He had . . . He was the one who . . . He  _ couldn’t _ . He just couldn’t. She was still  _ here _ ? How? Why? 

Heart pounding in his ears, Bobby turned on his heel and fled the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My depression has skyrocketed when I found out my dance classes were all cancelled. So. I wrote my sorrows away and now we're here.  
> Thank you for reading!


	17. I Fall Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies are said, Klaus is an idiot with a newfound ability, and Ben feels for the old hunter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Came a bit earlier than I thought. I was going to add more to this chapter, but it didn't seem appropriate. I hashed this whole thing out late last night while sleep deprived.

“Oh dear,” Karen murmured, getting to her feet. “I’ll be back soon.”

Ben and Klaus watched as she hurried after Bobby. The teens worried about the gruff man’s reaction.

“Okay . . . So, looking at this in hindsight, blurting that Karen was still here was probably a mistake.” Klaus scratched his cheek.

“ _ Probably _ ?” Ben scowled. “He’s been without his wife for a long time. Suddenly finding out his dead wife has been here the whole time is going to come as a shock.”

“Well!” Klaus flung his arms around. “How am I supposed to know! I thought he’d be really happy. Me and death have a weird relationship, okay?”

Which, yeah, Ben knew that. Klaus had always been flippant when it came to dead people. To him, it didn't matter whether someone was dead or alive. Everyone was just kind of . . . there. Sometimes, his brother had a hard time differentiating between the living and the dead, so much so that he let rude or inappropriate comments fly. It got him into trouble a lot when they were younger.

Although, after Ben's funeral, Klaus was starting to see death differently, from the perspective of his siblings.

Ben remembered how Klaus reacted to Ben's death, at first. How his brother had locked himself away to drink and drug himself to death so he wouldn't see Ben's mangled corpse dragging around behind him. How Klaus was wasted at the funeral and was blabbering about how he could see Ben,  _ he's right there! _ and how Ben looked totally fine. How Klaus had thought everything was a joke, until their siblings just about murdered him in their grief and rage.

How Klaus had had a long, tearful discussion with Ben, filled with apologies and promises that were too easy to break.

How Klaus had left not long after Ben's statue was put up, never to return.

So, yeah, Ben knew that Klaus was flippant, but he also knew that Klaus was better about the topic than before.

Granted, Ben should have been more thoughtful to the situation as well. He was being too careless. He was getting too used to . . . well, to being dead.

He didn’t know how he felt about that.

“Yeah, I know,” Ben sighed, eyes trailing down to the folded hands in his lap. “Sorry.”

Klaus shifted uncomfortably, scooching closer to Ben. “Sorry? What for? Are you thinking too hard with that big brain of yours again?”

Ben snorted and brought his gaze back to his brother. “Big brain?”

Klaus grinned. “Yeah. Filled with all those huge words and sass.”

“Sass? Me?” Ben pressed a hand to his chest. “Never.”

Klaus laughed, big and bright, and Ben couldn’t help but smile too. “You might have been around me for too long.”

Ben shrugged. “So? I still feel human around you. Plus, you’d be bored to tears without me.”

“Lies. I’d find a way to keep myself entertained. Your company is just a tad better than the drugs.”

That actually was a really kind thing to say. He wasn’t sure if Klaus meant it, or if he was just joking, but it made Ben feel better all the same.

They allowed the comfortable silence to rest between them, until Ben nudged Klaus’s shoulder and said, “You should go apologize to Bobby. You really freaked him out.”

“Yeah,” Klaus nodded. He grabbed the ginger ale and swallowed it quickly, which made Ben wince, then got onto shaky legs. “Here we go.”

Ben trailed after Klaus, as he normally did, and they entered the living room to see . . . nothing. Where was Bobby? Karen was nowhere in sight, either.

“Uh,” Ben said eloquently.

“Outside.”

“What?” Ben turned to his brother, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I can feel Karen’s presence or whatever. She’s outside.” Klaus said. Like that wasn’t a huge deal.

“Wait, you can feel where she is? How long have you been able to do that?”

“Not long,” Klaus shrugged. “Just started one day, I guess.”

“Klaus!” Ben stood in front of his brother. “When were you going to tell me this?”

“It’s not a big deal, Ben,” Klaus rolled his eyes. “We gotta find Bobby. C’mon.”

Ben only hesitated for a moment, emotions a confusing mess right now. “We’re talking about this later,” Ben promised. His brother was right in that they needed to find Bobby, and he didn’t like that, but he was worried enough to push it to the side for now. 

Instead, Ben followed Klaus outside towards one of the heaps of car parts on Bobby’s property. All around, hollow car frames and rusted plates littered the yard. Cars were stacked on one another, the ones on the bottom of the piles decayed beyond recognition. A few car seats and benches were scattered around the piles, stuffing coming out of long tears and leather worn down from the elements. Ben wondered how long all this stuff had been here.

Klaus stopped next to Karen, the woman fiddling with her blouse as she watched Bobby anxiously. Bobby, on the other hand, was digging through scraps of metal and old parts near frantically.

“What are you going to do?” Ben asked. “He seems a little . . . wired? You might scare him if you just announce yourself.”

So, Klaus decided the best idea would be to cough. Bobby, of course, startled so badly his little pile of scraps tumbled to the ground as he whipped around.

Ben rolled his eyes. “Smooth.”

“Klaus,” Bobby said. “Hey, kid. Hey--what are you doing out of bed? It’s cold out here. You’ll catch your death.”

Klaus either didn’t notice or didn’t care, because he knelt on the frosty ground beside Bobby and asked, “What are you looking for?”

Bobby shook himself and shrugged off his jacket to place it over Klaus’s shoulders. Then he went back to digging. “Doesn’t matter.”

“He’s trying to find all of my personal items,” Karen said. “Things that would keep me here.”

“Why are you trying to get rid of Karen?” Klaus asked as he tucked his legs under himself.

Bobby flinched. “. . . Because she needs to move on. She can’t stay here.”

“Does she get a say in the matter?”

“You don’t--” Bobby growled, gripping a rusty pipe so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Look, kiddo, when a ghost stays for too long without a way to communicate with the living, they start to go crazy.”

“I know. I’ve been told.” He glanced to Karen.

“Then you know I gotta send her away before she does.”

“She’s held on to most of her sanity for this long,” Klaus said, hazel orbs drawn back to the older man. He changed tracks. “Don’t you want to speak to her? Ask about . . . I don’t know, how she’s been?”

“I can’t,” Bobby said. He sounded so broken. Fear glistened behind a steely gaze. “I can’t talk to her. I need her to go.”

Brows furrowed together, Klaus glanced back to Karen. The woman bit her lip, not meeting his gaze. 

“Karen?”

Bobby ignored him, finding a small box under all the scraps. He stood up with it, but Klaus waited for Karen to speak.

“He blames himself for my death. I don’t think he’ll want to talk to me because of the guilt.”

Ben frowned. “We knew that already. Well, we guessed. But . . . I would think that he would be happy to talk to you. Maybe want to apologize.”

“You should--” Karen nodded after Bobby, and Klaus finally stood. “Talk to him. Please. Maybe you can make him see sense.”

Ben didn’t like where this was going. Even if the man blamed himself for his wife’s death, shouldn’t he at least want to tell her goodbye? Tell her he was sorry for what happened? Something was really wrong with this situation.

Klaus and Ben rounded a pile of broken cars and found Bobby with a lighter and a can of gasoline. The small box was placed at his feet, and Bobby was unscrewing the top of the can. “Wait!” Klaus ran forward, grabbing Bobby’s hand.

Bobby shook him off violently. Klaus fell back, landing on his butt. “No! I have to do this!”

“Stop!” Klaus scrambled to his feet and stood between the box and Bobby. Bobby glared at him.

“Klaus,” Bobby’s tone darkened. “Step aside.”

“Not until you tell me why you can’t talk to her.” Klaus glared right back at the man, not backing down. Ben was surprised by Klaus’s actions. He wasn’t usually one to stand up to people like this.

Bobby grit his teeth. Ben could swear he heard them grinding together from where he was standing. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

The man gripped the gasoline can firmly, tension rippling through him. He breathed heavily through his nose, the hairs on his upper lip rustling. Klaus bunched his hands into fists, preparing for a fight if need be. Bobby just tossed the can down in aggravation. “Dammit, boy!”

“I need to know.”

“Like hell you do. You don’t know anything!”

“Then tell me!”

“I killed her!”

Silence. Overhead, snowflakes drifted lazily to the ground. Ben didn’t blink, didn’t pretend to breathe, remained absolutely still. Karen, chest mangled from knife wounds, sighed sadly.

“I killed her. Stabbed her three times in the chest.” The words seemed to be torn from him, bleeding and raw. Ben was left stunned, unable to come up with a response.

Pale, Klaus took a small step forward. “Just because you blame yourself doesn’t mean--”

“No! I killed her!” Bobby roared. Klaus tripped over the box as he tried to put distance between them. Shaking, Klaus swallowed any further words he had. “I used a kitchen knife, and I--I killed her.”

Karen stood beside her husband with a pained expression. “You didn’t know. You didn’t know you could save me.”

Another swallow, and Klaus said in a nervous voice, “She says you didn’t know you could save her. Bobby . . . what happened?”

The fight seemed to drain out of the man. He took off his ball cap and covered his face with a palm. “She was possessed by a demon. I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t in the hunting business yet, you see. So I . . .”

Sorrow laid heavy on Ben’s shoulders. “So you killed her.”

“Did . . . Did the demon disappear?” Klaus asked quietly. Ben barely heard him. Bobby took a shuddered breath.

“No. She kept coming at me despite having a major artery torn. I stabbed her twice more before the demon finally left.” He turned a pleading gaze to Klaus. “Y’have ta understand. She wasn’t  _ her _ anymore. Not until the demon was gone, and she was left to die on the kitchen floor.” He choked, and tears gathered in his eyes, dripping into his beard.

“It’s okay, Bobby,” Klaus said. He stumbled back to his feet, hands shakily reached forward as though Bobby were a wounded animal. “It’s okay. I get it.”

Bobby drew himself further upright. “Then you know why I gotta burn her things and send her away.”

With a swift shake of the head, Klaus gave the man a smile. “No. No, I still think you should talk to her.”

“Then you still don’t get it.”

“No, I do,” Klaus said. “I understand. But Bobby, if you don’t talk to her about it, it’s gonna eat you up inside. It’s the same with me and Ben. I let my fear over what happened to my brother get to me. I was drowning in booze and pills, but he saved me. You gotta talk to her.”

Ben bit his lip, knowing that wasn’t entirely the case. Klaus had barely been staying afloat before Sam and Dean came along. Ben wasn’t enough to help, merely a reminder of what Klaus had lost.

Bobby was shaking his head, denial and pain and sadness etched into the lines on his face. “I--I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Who do you think you’re talking to?” He smiled wide.

And then, his hands glowed a soft blue.

Bobby felt her presence before he saw her. Her hand was delicately placed on his shoulder, a soothing comfort that he hadn’t felt in so long. She shimmered into existence, looking the same as the day she died. Her ringlets were perfect, skirt flowing just so to make her legs gorgeous. The only mar was the blood soaked blouse and the colorless lips stretched into a warm smile.

“Hello, Bobby,” Karen said.

“Karen,” he breathed.

She squeezed his shoulder, and it felt so  _ real _ . She was here. She was really here. His vision grew blurry, and he blinked to clear it. His cheeks were wet.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, turning to face her fully. “I’m so, so sorry baby.”

“Shh,” her hand came up to run through his hair. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I do. For so much.” He took her other hand.  _ Cold, ashen, dead. _ He brought it to his lips. “I . . . I wanted kids. I really did. I was just so scared.”

Her eyes became impossibly soft. “Oh, Bobby. I knew you weren’t ready yet. But look at you now, with two men that look up to you like a father and two boys under your care. They may not be related by blood, but they’re your kids.”

He nodded along, warmth blossoming in his chest. She went on.

“I could never blame you for what happened. I wasn’t in control of my body and I didn’t want to hurt you. If you hadn’t done what you did, the demon would have killed you. I know it.”

“But--”

She shook her head, ringlets bouncing. She moved her hand from his hair to his cheek, caressing it softly. “I don’t blame you for  _ anything _ , and you shouldn’t either. That’s my husband you’re talking about. Please, be nicer to him.”

Bobby slumped forward, leaning into her palm. He wasn’t sure he could completely fulfill her request, but something lifted from his chest at her words. The guilt he had been carrying for years was being healed over by her balm. “Karen . . .”

She leaned into him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. His eyes fluttered closed, lips reciprocating, slotting into place like they had done this only yesterday. He tightened his grip on her hand, wanting to stay in this moment forever. He missed her. He missed her so much it physically hurt.

Slowly, he felt her hands fade from the physical plane, then her chest, and finally her lips. He opened his eyes to see her final smile, before she disappeared like a mirage on the wind.

She was gone. Just like that. He tried not to let his heart scatter with her.

Behind him, Klaus began to violently cough. Bobby whirled around, the boy hunched over his knees and wheezing pitifully. He hurried to his side, grabbing his elbows to keep him from collapsing.

“Klaus? Come on, kid, let’s get you back inside where it’s warm.” Bobby led him back through the scrap yard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your comments and kudos. You guys have blessed my life <3


	18. We Need a Little Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, fluff, more fluff. Sam and Dean are back!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reread through this after having written it days ago, and I was going into it thinking it was absolute garbage. I didn't feel like I had to change much, actually.

Klaus got worse after his trip outside (“I told you, idiot!” “Oh, can it, Ben.”), and now Ben had to keep constant vigil at his brother’s bedside so Klaus wouldn’t do something incredibly stupid.

Bobby had gathered all the things that had belonged to Karen and brought them upstairs into the master bedroom, where they belonged, mumbling about how he would try, for her sake. Ben was proud of the man. The conversation that he and Karen had seemed to lift something off of Bobby’s hunched shoulders, allowing the man to begin his own healing process.

The old hunter also took Karen’s earlier advice and went out to get a Christmas tree. “Don’t forget the teddy bear!” Klaus had called after him before he left. Bobby had just laughed and shook his head as he stepped out.

Karen disappeared after the discussion. Klaus told him it was because she had moved on or something, that her presence was nowhere to be found. Ben hoped that wherever she ended up was better than existence here. She deserved it.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t sad she was gone. He mourned her fading, already missing the comfort that she had brought so willingly. It was selfish of him, but he wished she’d come back, at least for him and Klaus.

Manifesting the woman had taken a lot out of Klaus, so while Bobby had been away, he had taken a long and--luckily--nightmare-free nap. Ben had stayed put until Bobby returned to make sure his brother was alright. Today was the same, his brother needing the extra energy to heal from his illness, leaving Ben to entertain himself.

That was one thing that Ben despised about being dead. He couldn’t sleep, so the hours dragged on like everything was dipped in molasses. Usually, Ben would take out the book that had died with him and read through it, but he had already read through it enough times now to have it memorized. Staring at Klaus while he slept was creepy, despite the fact that Ben had done it many times while they were still on the streets, so Ben decided he would go exploring.

Promising Klaus’s unconscious form that he would be back soon, Ben drifted downstairs and out of the house. He briefly gave Bobby a smile and a wave. The old hunter, setting up the tree, didn’t notice him of course, but he pretended the grunt the man made was to acknowledge his leaving.

Ben stepped out into the freezing winter air, feeling none of the biting chill. Snow blew through his form, collecting on the ground at least a foot high, yet his ghostly being phased through it. He was glad for it, since it didn’t impede him at all.

“Alright, here we go,” he said.

He didn’t leave a footprint in the snow, but, like any book nerd, that’s part of what he wanted. Willing his feet not to fall through to the earth below, he walked on top of the snow. Escentially, he was merely floating above the snow (he didn’t even have to walk, but he liked to have some normalcy in his afterlife).

He grinned wide, then puffed out his chest. “Legolas, what do your elf eyes see?” He quoted in the voice he imagined Aragorn to possess. He stepped across the snow as though he were the elf, never leaving a mark.

He giggled, then said in the voice he imagined Legolas to have, “Yet do not cast all hope away. Tomorrow is unknown. Rede oft is found at the rising of the Sun.”

He whipped out the book hidden in his jacket pocket, waving it around as though it were a sword. “You would die before your sword fell.”

He ran through the junkyard, recreating some of his favorite scenes from the books that he could remember. It was the most fun he’d had in a long time.

Sam was sore and his face hurt. It wasn’t an unusual thing for him, since he practically grew up with the feeling, but this time it was due to someone who looked and sounded like Dean. The man he had always trusted to protect him. The one he had always sought for comfort. It left him feeling cold and unbalanced, despite knowing that the monster wasn’t Dean. His brain wasn’t happy about it, though, and he knew it was probably going to torment him for a while.

“Sorry, man.”

Sam glanced up from the road to his brother. “About what?”

“I really wish things could be different,” Dean said, eyes meeting Sam’s before flicking back to the road. “You know? I really wish you could just be Joe College.”

Warmth spread through Sam. There he was. His stupid, lovable idiot. No plotting psycho, no crazy one liners. Just Dean. “Nah, it’s okay.” He smiled shyly. “You know, truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in.”

“Well, that’s because you’re a freak,” Dean smirked.

“Yeah, thanks,” Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean grinned wider. “Well, I’m a freak too. I’m right there with you all the way.”

Sam chuckled, feeling light at the words. “Yeah . . . I know you are.”

The two rode comfortably for a while, empty, frost tipped fields passing by. Dean stuck out his lip and clicked his tongue.

“You know, I gotta say, I’m sorry I gotta miss it.”

“Miss what?” Sam’s brows came together.

“How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?”

Sam’s lips twitched, but he refused to laugh. He wouldn’t give his brother the satisfaction of a laugh at that. Screw him.

Dean laughed, though, that deep rumble that complimented his car. The one that he reserved for when he was messing with Sam. Sam just huffed and turned his attention back to the road.

Ben came back in from the cold a few hours later, feeling refreshed and giddy. Well, mentally, that is. He skipped up the stairs to Klaus’s room, hoping his brother was awake by now.

He phased through the door and plopped down on Klaus’s floor. “Klaus!”

Klaus groaned and rolled over, glaring at Ben. “What’s got you so chipper?”

Ben beamed. “Just played around a bit outside. Maybe, once you’re feeling better, we could build a snowman.”

His brother’s expression softened at that, curiosity and excitement taking its place. “Sure.”

Ben leaned against the bed, chin propped in his hands. “How was your nap?”

“You know, I had a really strange dream.”

“Yeah? Drags or divas?”

“Neither.”

Ben lifted a brow.

“Cowboy Jesus. Mentioned that the devil didn’t want me. Which, rude. I’m the hottest piece of ass on this side of the equator. Who  _ wouldn’t _ want me?”

Ben snorted. “I don’t know, maybe he has a good argument.”

“Benjamin. My flesh and blood--”

“Not related by blood.”

“My heart and soul--”

“You have one of those?”

“Mein bruder! To betray me thus.” Klaus draped a hand over his forehead. “And to think, I was going to share my waffles with you.”

“What? No, I want waffles.”

“It’s too late!” Klaus pretended to sob. “You’ve already broken my heart.”

“Klaus,” Ben whined, flopping his arms over his brother. They passed through, making Klaus shiver at the chill.

“Ben!” Klaus shrieked and sat up abruptly while Ben snickered. He hated it when Ben stuck his limbs through him, and Ben  _ knew _ it.

“That’s what you get for denying me waffles.”

“This is abuse. I’m being abused.”

“Waffles.”

Klaus huffed and swatted at Ben’s face, not making contact. “Whatever, you gremlin. I’ll get you your dumb waffles.”

“Wait,” Ben held up a hand. “First. Tell me about what you meant earlier about feeling Karen’s presence.”

“Oh yeah.” Klaus crossed his legs beneath him and tapped his chin. “How do I explain this? Um . . . well, it’s kind of like . . . every ghost has this aura, right?”

Ben nodded.

“And each one is different. Like, when I searched out Karen’s, I could feel that it was  _ her _ . With you, too. I can feel that it’s distinctly  _ you _ .”

“Okay . . .?”

“Yeah. So, I could sense the aura that surrounds a ghost--Karen--and followed it to its source, like a dog to food or whatever.”

“Dogs?”

Klaus groaned. “You’re not getting it.” Rude. Ben got the  _ gist _ of it, but Klaus rarely made sense on a good day. “So, pretend that this aura has a trail. I can pick up on the trail and follow it until I get to the main source. I can also detect how many souls are nearby. Right now, it’s just you.”

“Ah. Okay. Well, that’s good, right? Now ghosts can’t sneak up on you.”

Klaus nodded.

“So, when did this start happening?”

“A few days ago. Probably around the time that I got sick.”

“And you didn’t mention it?”

“It didn’t seem important.”

“Of course it’s important, Klaus,” Ben said. “Anything that happens that involves your powers is important. Even if it’s the tiniest detail.”

“Well, I didn’t think so, so . . . sorry,” Klaus mumbled.

Ben shook his head. “It’s alright. Just . . . tell me next time. I want to help you through all of this.”

“I know,” Klaus smiled. “Thank you.”

Ben smiled back, then stood. “Alright, so. Waffles?”

Klaus moaned. “ _ Yes _ .” He followed his brother out of the room to beg Bobby for waffles.

Downstairs, Bobby had the tree up and a few ornaments already placed haphazardly on the branches. He didn’t even have any lights on the tree yet.

“He’s not making it look nice  _ at all _ ,” Klaus huffed. He marched up to Bobby and took the purple ornament out of the man’s hand.

“Klaus?” Bobby asked, alarmed.

“You can’t just go all  _ willy nilly _ on the tree! There’s a certain order to things, and you have to space things just right so it looks nice, and there are color schemes and--”

Bobby held up his hands. “Whoa, wait.” He chuckled. “Why don’t you go ahead, then? I’ll busy myself with something else in the meantime.”

Klaus nodded, confidence about his decorating skills clear on his face. Ben groaned. He hoped the tree wouldn’t look too atrocious.

Klaus glanced to him, then to Bobby. “Oh, right! Bobby, since you’ve kindly allowed me to decorate, would you mind making me and Benny waffles?”

Bobby raised a brow. “First, can Ben even eat? And second, are you sure you’re well enough for that?”

Klaus nodded. “Yes! To both.” He didn’t elaborate on the eating thing when Bobby gave a confused hum. “I feel loads better, actually. No fever, no need to hunch over the toilet, no cough! I am down to party.”

“Usually that means you wouldn’t immediately start partying,” Bobby chuckled. “Gotta let your body recover until it’s completely better. But, who am I to judge.” He headed for the kitchen.

“Peanut butter and chocolate chips for Ben’s! And loooooots of whipped cream on mine. S'il vous plaît!”

Excitedly, Ben hopped up onto the desk near the tree. “This is gonna be the best day ever.”

Klaus just gave him a big grin.

The snow got thicker the further north they travelled. It was with mild surprise that Sam realized it was Christmas Eve. They’d be back to Bobby’s in time for Christmas. Not that that meant anything, of course, since the Winchesters never celebrated the holiday, even less so Bobby. Still. Maybe they could pick something up for Klaus on their way back? Klaus probably wasn’t nearly as awkward about the holiday as the rest of them.

“Klaus and Bobby were good when you called, right?” Dean asked, as though reading his mind.

“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t get to hold a long conversation since I was running from the  _ cops _ , but Bobby said he was fine. Doing better, in fact. His fever broke.”

“That’s good,” Dean nodded. “Hey, you think we could find that dress he was talking about earlier in the car? You know, the red one? We could get it for him as a ‘good job on getting better’ gift.”

Sam snorted. “You mean a Christmas gift?”

Dean startled, wide eyes turning on Sam. “What? No. It’s Christmas?”

“Eyes on the road,” Sam absently reminded. “And as if you haven’t been counting down the days. I know you. You get all giddy every year.”

Dean scoffed. “No I don’t.”

“Oh yeah? So I guess the lights in the back are meant for a romantic night.”

“Hey, you never know. Some people have weird turn ons.”

Sam shook his head. “Sure.” He sucked on his teeth, then said, “And yeah. I think he’d like it if we got him a dress.”

Dean’s lips pulled up on one side. “Yeah? And we should probably get something for Ben too . . . what might he like? A book?”

Sam shrugged. “Probably. We don’t know what he’s read, though.”

“Sam, he’s a ghost haunting his traumatized brother. I’m sure whatever we get him, he’ll be grateful.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Wow, Dean.”

“What? I’m just telling the truth.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sam thought about it for a moment. “Well . . . what if we just got him a classic?”

“Nothing above like ten dollars, though,” Dean said. “We’re not the richest people in the world.”

“Duh,” Sam said. “And if we go to a thrift store, we could get a dress for Klaus and a book for Ben for like ten dollars max.”

Dean frowned. “Yeah, but it wouldn’t be the same red dress. I would feel like I was cheating him. And what if the used book is scribbled in or something?”

“Thrift stores are usually pretty good about putting out presentable things. Besides, you were the one to bring up money.”

Dean sighed. “Well, I don’t know how special Christmas had been for them, being in a mansion and all. What if their servants put together a huge thing or something?”

Sam scrunched his nose. “I don’t know. But I don’t see Reginald as the type of person to throw a Christmas party.”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe he lets them loose for the holiday? He just goes to a separate part of the mansion.”

“Maybe. I guess it would make sense, since Klaus is so chipper, that their dad let them have a few liberties now and then. Unlike Dad.”

“Hey. He let us do whatever as long as we stuck together when we were little.”

“Yeah, but he never celebrated holidays with us. And then one year we just stopped altogether.”

His older brother clenched his jaw. “Yeah.”

The car became silent, tension thick between the passengers. Sam bit his lip and fiddled with his jacket sleeves. So, yeah, that was a little insensitive. Dean didn’t mean to stop any traditions, Sam just didn’t give him any more opportunities. Dean tried his best. Sam just . . . distanced himself from the family. It was easy when it came to Dad and blaming things on him, but Dean didn’t deserve that.

“Sorry,” Sam muttered.

“It’s fine.”

“No it’s not,” said Sam. “That was unfair of me.”

“Well, it’s not like it isn’t true.” Dean glanced at Sam out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t sweat it. So, thrift store? I’m sure there’s one along the way.”

“Yeah . . .” Sam wasn’t sure if he should let this one go, but he knew his brother wouldn’t want to talk anymore about it. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I love you guys ;-; <3


	19. Home for the Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is here! Some explanations are given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may be asking: "But Missy, isn't it Easter? Why write a Christmas scene?"  
> And to that I say: "Both got Jesus in 'em, whatever. I need fluff."

Ben sat in front of the plate of waffles, trepidation over this whole thing not working locking his limbs in place. Klaus was already chowing down like he hadn’t had anything for months. Which, considering his brother had been puking the last few days and refusing to eat much, could very well be the case.

"What's wrong?" Klaus asked, pausing briefly. Ben was surprised he hadn't choked yet.

"Nothing," Ben said. He didn't make an effort to lift his arms from their place at his sides.

Klaus rolled his eyes, because he knew Ben better than anyone else. “Right. And you’re sitting there, wasting my energy--what, staring at the plate of delicious heaven like it will materialize in your stomach?”

Slight guilt built up in Ben’s chest, but he glowered at Klaus. “No. It’s not . . . that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t want it to not work.” Ben admitted softly. “Like, what if I can only drink stuff?”

“Then we’ll have to blend up your waffles.” Klaus shrugged like it was easy.

Ben sighed. “Klaus . . .”

“I know,” and this time, Klaus sounded much more somber, understanding. It twisted something in Ben’s gut. “I know. But we won’t find out until you try.”

“I’m scared.”

Klaus reached out a hand and squeezed Ben’s, giving him a soft smile. “I’m here for you, Benny.”

Ben smirked. “You know that’s not my name.”

Klaus chuckled. “You’re right. Sorry, Benevieve.”

He raised a brow. Hadn’t heard that one yet.

“No good?”

He just smiled. He loved his brother.

Taking a deep, useless breath, Ben took his fork and cut into the waffle. Peanut butter and chocolate chips. Usually, he wouldn’t want syrup on top, but he wanted the full experience. He hesitated with the waffle halfway to his mouth, but one squeeze from Klaus and he shoved it in without a second thought.

Flavor burst across his tongue. An explosion of taste and texture and  _ sweet, so much sweet _ . Too much. He didn’t want it to stop. He let it rest on his tongue until the waffle became gooey and the peanut butter had thoroughly coated his throat thickly. When he finally swallowed, he noticed tears streaming down his cheeks.

“It’s amazing . . .” he whispered.

How had he forgotten what a waffle tasted like? If it wasn’t his favorite already, it was now.

The waffle bite settled in his stomach. He could  _ feel _ it in there. He could eat, though he didn’t need to. The Horror murmured happily to him. He wondered what would happen when he became incorporeal, and where the food would end up.

At the moment, he couldn’t care less.

He shoveled more down, at the insistence of Klaus and his tentacled friend. Well, not necessarily a friend, more like a parasite. Whatever.

The waffles disappeared before he could blink, and he frowned down at the empty plate.

“Want some more?” Klaus asked casually. Ben could tell this exercise was wearing him down, however. For some reason, making Ben corporeal wasn’t as much as a strain as making him corporeal  _ and _ able to eat.

So, yes, Ben did want more, but he also wanted Klaus to rest. Being the patient and caring brother that Klaus insisted he was (though had trouble believing), Ben shook his head and pushed the plate away.

“It was amazing. It was way better than the coffee.”

Klaus beamed. “I knew you’d say that. Next time, I want you to try something spicy.”

Ben screwed up his face. “No thanks.”

“Oh come on, I think you’ll like it!”

“Doubt it. Didn’t like it in life, won’t like it in death.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Party pooper.”

“Who’s pooping on parties?” Bobby asked, coming in from outside. His cheeks were flushed and his coat drenched in snow. He shucked his winter boots by the door.

“Ben,” Klaus answered at the same time Ben said, “Nobody.” Ben glared at his brother.

“Ben’s refusing to eat something spicy next time we try feeding him.”

“I’m not a dog, weirdo.”

“No, you’re like a cat. Demanding attention only when you want it, lazy, and cute as a button.”

Ben hissed and Klaus just giggled.

“Well, it’s gettin’ pretty late,” Bobby patted himself off, getting snow everywhere. “The lights are up along the outside of the house, so there’s nothin’ left to do.” He glanced to the tree in the living room. “Oh . . .”

Oh indeed. Klaus had outdone himself, in his opinion. Ben thought Christmas had gotten out of a store and threw up all over the tree. Green and red lights sparkled while every ornament Bobby had was thrown onto the tree. Purples and red and blues and whites, along with a couple yellows here and there from beads. Sashes and tinsel. And on top, a cutout star that Klaus had colored himself. It was a mess.

Klaus had never been happier about it.

Granted, the presentation made sense, as strange as it was. It was organized chaos, which just about summed up all of Klaus’s life. The colors didn’t clash where they had been placed, and each ornament was placed strategically so there wasn’t a bald spot on the tree, nor an ornament of the same type too close to its sibling.

Ben still curled his nose at it.

“Isn’t it lovely? Really screams ‘Christmas spirit’, no?” Klaus batted his lashes at Bobby.

Bobby snorted. “I guess that’s one way to put it. Now off with you two. Get some sleep before Santa gets here or whatever.”

Klaus furrowed his brows at Ben, who equally looked confused. “Wait, isn’t that the fat dude that always shows up in the store windows?”

Bobby stopped in his trek to the fridge, arm outstretched. He raised a brow. “Uh, yeah? You guys know about Saint Nick, don’cha?”

“Who’s that?” Ben scrunched his nose.

Bobby gaped at them, but they just gave confused, blank stares back. “Santa Clause? Old Saint Nicholas? The Jolly Man in Red?”

“Are you making stuff up now?” Klaus tilted his head.

“Alright, we’re goin’ ta teach y’all about Christmas and pagans.”

Dean pulled into Bobby’s junkyard sometime around three in the morning. He was expecting the lights to be off in the house. He was not expecting the Christmas lights lining the windows and along the gutters of Bobby’s home.

“Uh, did Bobby get attacked by the ghost of Christmas present?” Sam asked.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Well,  _ something _ happened while we were gone,’ Dean said. He hopped out of the Impala and marched through the snow to the front door. What greeted him inside was not what he expected.

A giant, red stuffed bear greeted him with a smile. Dean gawped at it.

“What the hell is  _ that _ ?”

At first, Dean thought Sam was asking about the bear. And then he  _ saw _ .

A monstrosity of colors and glitter assaulted him. Blinking green and red lights aggravated his eyes and gave him a headache. Tinsel reflected lights and ornaments of just about any color sat comfortably around the mess, leaving nothing bare underneath.

“I think . . . it’s a Christmas tree.”

Sam blinks at him. “Where’s the  _ tree _ part in it?”

Dean chuckled nervously. “Obviously somewhere under . . .” He waved a hand at it. “All that.”

The sound of a gun cocking drew their attention away from the “tree”. Bobby rounded the corner, shotgun first, and only relaxed when he noticed who they were.

“Jeez, go ahead and give the old man a heart attack, will you,” the man grumbled. He clicked the safety and rubbed his chin. “Didja just get back? Ya didn’t stop once for rest?”

“Sorry, Bobby,” Sam said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “And you can blame this one for that. He didn’t want to risk somehow getting caught if we stopped.” He jerked a thumb at Dean.

To his credit, Dean only rolled his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause you would rather spend the night in a jail cell.”

Bobby held up a hand. “Wait, wait. You mentioned Dean was  _ wanted _ earlier? Okay, just what is going on?”

Sam shrugged and headed further into the house. “I’ll let Dean explain. I need a shower and at least a couple hours of sleep.”

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty, don’t take up all the hot water!” Dean called after him.

Sam flipped him off, disappearing when he went up the stairs.

Dean scoffed. “This kid. So ungrateful.”

The older hunter raised a brow at Dean, expectant. Dean was too tired to get into this right now, but Bobby was owed an explanation. With a great sigh, Dean flopped into a kitchen chair and rubbed his forehead. “Where to start. Um, well . . . I guess I’ll start when we got to Saint Louis.”

Bobby took a seat next to him, full attention on the younger. “Well, Sam got an email from an old college buddy, Becky, saying that one of his friends, whatever-his-name-was, killed his wife. I didn’t think it was important, but Sam was adamant that we go.

“So, we get to Saint Louis, and talk to Becky. And wow, was she a catch . . .” Dean stuttered to a stop when Bobby coughed and glared at him. “Right, right. So, we found out that this dude had all the evidence stacked against him. He was in jail for murder and it looked like there wasn’t anything to help him out of this. They even had fingerprints! But Becky said that he was with her that night, and that there was no way he could have gone home and murdered his wife in the time allotted.

“Sam was convinced this guy didn’t do it, and told Becky that I’m actually a cop. Well, private detective, whatever.”

“Is that how ya became wanted?”

Dean waved him off. “I’m getting there, be patient. Anyways, we went to his house. It was a bloodbath. Literally. There was not a surface that wasn't coated in blood. Pictures from the police showed that the woman had been tied to a chair and tortured before she died from her wounds. They also mentioned that the house had been robbed beforehand and that the neighbor’s dog had been vicious ever since. Key information, there, but they didn’t think to mention it until I asked.” He rolled his eyes.

“We asked for the tapes, to see if they were tampered with. The cops gave us weird looks, saying that they definitely weren’t, but you know our business.” At Bobby’s nod, Dean continued. “We insisted. Going through the tapes made it pretty obvious that something was going on outside of the norm.

“The dude’s eyes flashed in the camera. And the next morning, when we went to check out an escape route that he could have taken, we found a blood smear that led to the sewers. We then discovered another murder, same deal, and the husband was on the way home in a car while it took place. Same evidence against the man, and same blood smear leading into the sewers. We decided to investigate.”

Dean shuddered at the memory of what they found down there. “We found the hideout, along with a giant mess of blood and skin and hair and  _ teeth _ . . . It was absolutely nasty.”

“Shapeshifter,” Bobby said. Dean could see an idea forming in his mind, but went on.

“Yep. Disgusting thing. Well, it attacked us, not liking that we invaded its home. Sam and I separated to track it down, and it got the jump on me. I woke up some time later, tied to a beam underground with a sheet thrown over me. Sammy was somewhere behind me, trying to get free. I won’t go into details about how we got out, just know that we did.”

“So it took on the form of either you or Sam?”

“Me.” Dean nodded. “By the time we got out of the sewers, we found that ‘I’ had attacked Becky and am now a fugitive of the law. Lucky for us, Becky was left alive. While we tried to get Baby back from Becky’s, the cops arrived and started chasing us. I think that’s when Sam called to ask about Klaus.”

Bobby nodded. “Yeah, sounded pretty shaken up.”

“Well, after shaking them off, I told Sam to stay with his friend while I went after the shifter. And . . .” he winced. “I found Becky in the shifter’s hideout.”

“Oh . . .” Bobby’s lips thinned. “Sam was tricked.”

“We both were,” Dean shook his head. “But that’s not the worst of it. After freeing Becky and rushing to help Sam, I find  _ myself _ beating up my little brother.” He clenched his hands into tight fists. “ _ Choking _ him. There was a knife and . . .” he took a deep breath to keep calm. The blind  _ rage _ he had felt at seeing that thing hurt his brother . . . He fiddled with his ugly, precious necklace that Sam had given him ages ago. “I didn’t even think. I shot it in the chest, took back my necklace, and we hit the road soon after checking to make sure that Becky was alright. The cops believed that I had died, and that I was the one who had caused all the murders.”

“You became the scapegoat.”

“Basically,” Dean shrugged and yawned. “So now Sammy and I are thinking about just laying low for a while.”

“Well, you’re always welcome here, son,” Bobby smiled and patted Dean’s shoulder. Dean gave him a smile in thanks.

“By the way, who attacked you with Christmas?” He titled his head toward the tree in the living room.

“Oh, right,” Bobby chuckled. “Ugly thing, isn’t it? Well, I guess it ain’t too bad, considerin’ we all ain’t had a real Christmas before. Klaus did that.”

Dean cringed. “Luckily, Christmas is only one day, right?”

Bobby snorted. “Pretty sure he’ll want to keep it up  _ at least _ until New Years.”

“Yikes,” he said. “Why did you set up this year, anyway? Never have before.”

“Well . . . I suppose I should tell ya my end of the story.” Bobby chuckled.

Ben grew excited when he heard Dean and Sam come back, and listened with rapt attention as Dean explained what happened while they were away.  _ Shapeshifters _ . Klaus would totally love the story once he woke up.

He drifted to the stairs once Bobby started to tell their side of the last few days. He supposed he could read for a while until Klaus got up for the day. He didn’t want to spoil any surprises that Santa would bring.

Right, Santa. The concept was novel to Ben and Klaus, having never known much about the whole thing until Bobby explained it to them. Imagining a fat man with a huge white beard and a bright red coat tumbling down a chimney was absolutely ridiculous, but it gave Ben a giddy feeling nonetheless. It sounded like one of his books, where a jolly man would help children around the world feel hope.

Pictures of shiny wrapping paper and individual boxes hidden under a tree flitted about Ben’s mind. It must be so much fun to unwrap a gift that was specifically made for you and no one else. Being part of a family that shared everything, getting something that was  _ yours _ was precious.

He wondered why Santa had never visited while they were at the Academy. It could be easily explained, though. Reginald Hargreeves had probably scared the poor man off before he could do so much as land on the roof.

The darker part of Ben said that it was because he and his siblings all killed people before they had acne. Santa wouldn’t deliver presents to children that hurt others.

Ben shook his head. He, the tank of the Academy, got his due by dying a horrible death. Surely, that was repentance enough. 

Klaus, though . . . 

Would being literally haunted by dead people count? Klaus was near to insanity with how the ghosts crowded him and screamed and screamed to the point Klaus wanted to deafen himself. Being tortured all your life would be enough.

Right?

Then again, did Klaus ever actually kill anyone? Now that Ben thought about it, he couldn’t remember a time that Klaus willingly hurt someone. Comfort? Always. Protection? Every mission. But hurting someone wasn’t really Klaus’s thing.

He ran into Sam as the man exited the bathroom, steam following him into the hallway. All of Ben’s thoughts came to a screeching halt when he noticed the man’s face.

Well, firstly, there were bruises around his neck and slash marks from a knife against his torso. His wrists were chafed raw, as were his ankles. His eye was sporting an ugly shiner, the bruise purple and blue. The towel around his waist had lines of blood smeared around, but he didn’t seem too bothered by it. His back was a mess of purple and yellow.

“Sam?” Then he remembered what Dean said. Ben felt sick, like the waffles he had earlier would somehow come back up.

Hunting seemed cool, but there was a price to it.

“Sam . . .” Ben held out a hand, but knew he wouldn’t be able to help. He watched as the man went into his and Dean’s shared room, plucking out some bandages to wrap his wounds so they wouldn’t get infected, then carefully dressing himself for sleep. Ben was glad that he at least cleaned himself up.

He left when Sam went for his pants. Maybe hunting wasn’t such a good idea.

Morning came a lot faster than Dean was prepared for. He groaned, rolling over as light streamed through the curtains. “Sammy. Turn off the sun.”

“As if I could do that,” Sam huffed from the bed. Dean let him take the bed last night, taking the blow up mattress for himself, since Sam had gotten injured. It still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Then turn back time so I get another hour.”

“Definitely can’t do that.”

Dean moaned and felt a foot dig into his side. “Hey!”

“Get out of bed, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Sam scoffed and stretched, then hopped off the bed and opened the door. The smell of eggs and bacon wafted into the room. Dean’s stomach growled, and he leapt from the mattress for the hallway.

“Of course, your stomach will get you out of bed,” he heard Sam grumble behind him.

Well, if Sammy was going to be a little bitch, then Dean was going to eat all of his bacon. It’s what he gets for being late to breakfast anyway.

He found Klaus already eating, Ben materialized next to him and looking at his plate in wonder. Dean wasn’t as nervous around the ghost anymore, seeing him as more of a person that could disappear sometimes rather than a bloodthirsty monster. Dean smiled at them as he took a seat.

“Morning!” he greeted. “Ooh, Bobby, are those pancakes?”

“Sure, corn batter and protein.”

“What?”

“They’re really good,” Klaus piped up. “It’s like cornbread, but a pancake.”

Ben nodded along. He hadn’t touched his food much yet, savoring each bite. Dean wondered if this was the first time he was eating something again.

“Alright, guess I’ll try it. But if it’s another one of those efforts to eat healthy and it tastes like one of Sam’s green smoothie crap--”

“It’s not crap!” Sam said, entering the room at a shuffled pace. “You just can’t eat anything that isn’t processed and covered in grease.” He scrunched his nose.

“Grease?” Ben perked up. “Hey, Klaus, I need to try a burger sometime soon.”

“You know, you should probably make a list,” said Klaus. “I’m sure that there are tons of things you’ll want to eat again.”

Ben beamed, and Dean’s heart was gone for this kid.

“Eat up,” Bobby said, dropping pancakes on a plate in front of Dean. “Santa left some stuff under the tree.” He winked.

Dean’s brows furrowed at the wording, but Klaus and Ben started shovelling their food down faster, excitement clear. He huffed and patted Klaus’s back when he choked on eggs.

“Careful. They can wait until you’re done,” he said.

“Yeah,” Klaus nodded, but didn’t go any slower. At least he didn’t choke again.

Once done, Klaus and Ben raced for the tree. Dean and Sam turned around in their seats, but didn’t get up from the table. “Wow! There’s so many.”

There were only about five presents under the tree. Dean and Sam had contributed two of them. Dean’s heart ached.

“Wait, have you two . . .” Dean trailed off. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was asking. “Never had a lot of presents?”

Ben shook his head. “No. We haven’t had Christmas before. Sir just gave us a little extra time to rest from training on Christmas. Most of what we’ve learned about it has been from magazines and any movies we could get our hands on.”

When Dean turned to Sam, he noticed his brother’s face scrunched in sympathy. Even from their crappy childhood, at least they had  _ Christmas _ .

“So, no big parties and fancy outfits?” Dean asked.

Klaus waved a hand. “No time. The craziest year was when we decorated a sheet to act as a tree. Daddy was pissed, of course.”

“Oh yeah! I remember you painting the sheet green. Pretty sure you were high, too.”

Dean grimaced. He changed the subject. “Well, are any of the gifts labelled?”

Klaus nodded, grabbing the newspaper-wrapped gifts and checking them over. “One’s for me, and the other . . .” His eyes widened, then he gently set the gift beside his brother. “For you.”

“. . . Me?” Ben took the gift, awestruck. “But, how? I’m dead.”

“Ah, well . . .” Dean scratched his neck sheepishly. “Those two aren’t from . . . Santa. Me and Sam got those.”

Ben looked up at him, eyes glassy and full of gratitude. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean ignored the lump in his throat. He coughed and nodded. “‘Course. If you’re sticking around longer than a few weeks, gotta treat you like family, right?”

Ben gasped, then held the gift closer. “Y-Yeah. Thanks.”

Klaus wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

“There’s one more there for ya, Klaus,” Bobby said, leaning against the table and crossing his arms.

Klaus, confused, searched through the three glittery gifts until he spotted his name. “Oh, wow. This is so pretty.” He ran his hand over the paper reverently.

“Is there another for me?” Ben asked, but he sounded like he wasn’t expecting anything. Klaus searched anyway, and Dean’s heart throbbed when the medium shook his head.

Ben frowned but nodded, looking down. “It’s okay. I’m dead. He probably doesn’t know I’m still around.”

“Maybe we can write him a letter next year,” Bobby said. He sounded choked up, and Dean caught regret in his shoulders. “Let ‘im know you’re still here.”

Ben nodded, shoulders lifting. “I’m just happy I  _ got _ something. I didn’t think I would.”

“The other two are addressed to Sam and Dean,” Klaus announced, taking his spot beside Ben again. He held his wrapped gifts like they were precious.

Dean raised a brow at Bobby. Bobby just shrugged a shoulder, a mischievous glint to his eye. “It was all I could afford,” he whispered.

Sam smiled, and Dean melted. 

“Go on, get,” Bobby thumped Dean’s back to get him over to the tree.

Dean stumbled over to Klaus and Ben, sitting on the floor beside them. Sam was soon to follow. Klaus handed them each their gifts, careful not to tear them.

“You guys should go first,” Klaus said. “I think me and Ben just want to keep them nice for a bit longer.”

“Says you,” Ben snorted. “I know you want to tear into it like a madman.”

“Let me be a drama queen, Ben.”

Dean opened his first while the two bickered. He ripped open the package and found a cassette tape.

“The best of Jefferson Starship,” Dean’s lips quirked in a grin.

“Oh wow . . .” Sam whispered, holding up a book. “Criminology. Heh.”

“Okay, me next, me next!” Klaus waved an arm through the air. Ben rolled his eyes while Klaus tore into his gifts.

The first was the sparkly gift. Inside was a nice, new jacket, the words ‘Bad Bitch’ outlined in pink and covered in glitter. Klaus beamed. “I love it. Santa knows me so well!”

The next was the newspaper gift. Dean felt apprehensive about this one. They didn’t find the exact one that Klaus had described, and he hoped the boy wouldn’t be upset about it.

Klaus took out a ruby-red midi dress, netted in style and sheer sleeved. There was a keyhole opening in the back and braided trim around the neck and wrists for contrasting color. Klaus held it like it was gold.

“This,” he choked. “This is for me?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “We couldn’t find the exact one you were talking about, but we found this at Goodwill.”

Klaus covered his mouth in an attempt to hide a sob. Dean panicked, but Ben held up a hand. “Thank you. Thank you, it’s beautiful.” Klaus hugged it close to his chest.

“Well, don’t just sit there. Get changed into it!” Ben urged.

Klaus nodded and ran up the stairs. “Don’t open your gift without me!”

“I would never!”

A few minutes later, Klaus flounced down the stairs and did a little twirl for his audience. Ben clapped loudly, a big smile on his face. Dean and the others clapped as well, but not nearly as loud or with as much enthusiasm. Dad’s strict ways that had been ingrained for way too long kind of made Dean hesitate to be so excited for Klaus. It was . . . weird. Feminine. Didn’t belong on a man, as his dad would say. But he shook his head, knowing that it wasn’t right to think that way about Klaus. Especially with all that Klaus had gone through.

Klaus squealed. “It’s so pretty on me, right?”

Ben nodded emphatically. Dean wondered at how easy it was for Ben to be so encouraging towards Klaus. He might ask for pointers later.

“Thank you, Sam. Dean.” Klaus came over and squeezed their hands. Dean coughed in an attempt to hide his burning cheeks, while Sam chuckled and squeezed Klaus’s hand in return.

“Anything for family,” Sam said.

Klaus became all choked up again at that, so Ben distracted him by opening his own gift. The soft exclamation that Ben made when he saw the book they got him made Dean’s insides twist. Did he not like it?

“The Fellowship of the Ring,” Ben said. He flipped through a few of the pages, eyes wide and collecting tears already. “I . . .”

Dean shifted, worried he may have made a mistake. He had chosen the classic fantasy novel over the science book Sam had suggested. He and Sam had had an argument over it, but he had won, obviously. Maybe Sam was right.

“What he means is that he absolutely loves it.” Klaus translated. “Oh Ben . . .” He leaned over and wrapped his brother in a big hug while Ben sobbed ghostly tears.

It was honestly the best Christmas Dean had since his childhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the reason this came out later than usual and isn't edited at all, is because my dog died on Thursday. I had no motivation to write, even if it was something sweet. To make up for it, this chapter is really long and doesn't have anything too angsty. Lemme know if anything is incorrect, too wordy, etc.  
> Thank you for your patience.  
> :)


	20. Hooked On a Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new hunt! Enter Lori Sorenson, the hottest girl in school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed Tuesday, but I took some advice and had a few "me days" to relax and process what's been going on recently. Thank you so much to all those who left kind messages. I'm really grateful for you guys.

True to their word, Sam and Dean stayed at Bobby’s a couple more weeks following Christmas. They helped Klaus brush up on his childhood training, impressed that he knew so much already even if he was rusty, and kept him away from the allure of drugs with plenty of distractions. Ben was able to train, too, though most of it was Klaus perfecting his ability to make Ben part of the living world. Progress was progress either way, and Ben had fun which made Klaus happy.

The days that Klaus didn’t want to train, the Winchesters took him seriously and allowed a day off. They would have snowball fights, and build snowmen and snow igloos (he totally built the best igloo,  _ Dean _ ), and Klaus introduced a few games from the Academy days that he and his siblings made up. Being treated with respect and understanding was honestly so . . . nice. He was so grateful when they didn’t brush him off or force him to train regardless of what he wanted. And the days they just messed around was a blast.

So, Klaus was rightly antsy.

He waited for the other shoe to drop, for the nice words and kind gestures to turn ugly. He was getting more and more anxious the longer the niceties lasted, to the point he wanted to do something stupid just to get it over with. It was driving him insane.

Ben tried to keep his mind off of it, and Klaus snapped at Ben more often than not. He felt guilty for it; Ben was just trying to help. 

He didn’t stop the barbs he threw, and Ben continued to look sad.

He was the family screw up. So, he screwed up. A lot.

When Dean announced that there was another hunt nearby, Klaus could have cried in relief. Finally, something that he could do to prove himself to the Winchesters and keep the nice stuff up.

Ben was sitting on top of the table, Klaus making him visible to the others, while Klaus was seated in a chair like a normal person (Ben, you  _ heathen _ ). Sam was eating a salad next to Klaus, reading over emails on his phone. Ben perked up when Dean came in saying that he found them all a hunt.

“News item out of  _ Plains Courier _ , Ankeny, Iowa.” He flipped Sam’s laptop around to show them the page. A man’s face stared back at them, probably not much older than Sam.

“‘Mutilated body was found near the victim’s car parked on a 9 mile road’,” Sam read, then glanced at Dean.

“Keep reading,” Dean urged.

“‘Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, who’s name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible’.”

“Could be something interesting,” Dean said. Klaus agreed.

“It could be nothing,” Sam corrected. “One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything doesn’t mean it’s the invisible man.”

“Let’s just check it out,” Klaus said. “Just in case. You never know, Sam.”

“Dad would check it out,” Dean threw in. Klaus bit his lip in excitement, knowing that that would get Sam to go.

“And if Sam is right?” Ben asked, ever the Debbie Downer. Klaus rolled his eyes.

Dean shrugged. “Then it gets us out of the house for a bit. Don’t think I can’t hear you two arguing more and more lately.”

Klaus picked at his nails, wishing he had some polish. At least then he wouldn’t have to feel so guilty.

“I think it’s a good idea. And we can get Klaus and Ben some training in the field,” Dean said.

“. . . Alright,” Sam agreed. “But if it really is nothing, I get the privilege of saying ‘I told you so’.”

“Fine by me.”

Off they went. Klaus loved the road trips, jamming to classic rock music and seeing the world fly by. Sam didn’t seem to enjoy the selection of music, but he never said anything. It was funny to watch as his face scrunched up whenever a particular song he didn’t like came on.

Having lived with  _ Klaus _ for as long as he did, Ben didn’t mind the music. He quietly read beside Klaus as the other sang his heart out.

The trip was over way too soon, in Klaus’s opinion. They only stopped a couple of times on the way there, and Klaus was still munching on his bag of gummy worms when they stepped up to the fraternity house.

There were common ghosts that milled about the area, some looking like they had partied too hard and died accidentally while others had been killed along the street. Klaus, irritated by so many crowding him after having near silence for so long, batted at them like they were annoying flies. Ben tried to play defense to keep them away, but they didn’t really pay much attention to him. Unlike Klaus.

“I wish I could use the Horror on them like last time,” Ben grumbled. They had tried, in the past, to do that, but it never worked. Only with Mary, apparently.

“Different circumstances, Benny,” Klaus whispered as Sam and Dean chatted with the people that probably knew their victim. He popped another worm into his mouth. “You were both corporeal for that.”

“Then make me corporeal again,” Ben said. “Let me get rid of them for you.”

Klaus shook his head subtly. “It’s not gonna matter anyway. We’re outside and there will just be more that come. I’ll get tired faster if I try to get rid of them either way. So, just ignore them until I get stronger with my abilities.”

Ben pouted, but nodded and followed behind Klaus as they both ignored the ghosts.

Sam frowned as he was handed the pail of paint, annoyance towards his brother strong. “The things he could do with a brush”. Yeah, just wait, Dean, he’ll shove the brush up his brother’s ass.

Klaus got off free because he was still munching on gummy worms. The only reason Sam wasn’t upset by that as well was because Klaus could stand to gain a few pounds.

The guy that Sam was painting purple (for a game or something) said, “Rich was a good guy.”

“Rich,” Sam said, trying to ignore the fact that this dude was  _ covered _ in zits, and that one wrong move with the brush might make one pop. “Was he with someone?”

“Not just someone,” the guy said, stars in his eyes. “ _ Lori Sorenson _ .”

Were they supposed to know who that was? Sam glanced at Klaus, the one who had more knowledge about celebrities than the Winchesters, but Klaus just shrugged.

“Who’s Lori Sorenson?” Dean asked. To Sam, he said, “You missed a spot on the lower back.”

He was  _ enjoying this _ , that absolute prick!

Oh, Sam was  _ so _ going to kill him for this.

“Lori’s a freshman,” the guy explained. “She’s a local. Suuuuuper hot. And, get this, she’s a  _ reverend’s _ daughter.”

Klaus choked on a worm. “You have got to be kidding me,” he wheezed.

Dean seemed much more interested now, and Sam just rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t happen to know which church, would you?”

After gaining an address, they hopped back into the Impala and made the quick drive over. From the back seat, Klaus became more fidgety the closer they got to the church. “Everything alright?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Klaus nodded, face nervous. “I just don’t like places that have, you know, graveyards. I’ll stay in here while you guys get more info. Maybe chat with a ghost?” He chuckled, but it sounded shaky.

“No worries,” Dean said. “We won’t be long in there. If it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to do anything.”

Klaus nodded his thanks and leaned back into his seat, looking much calmer now. Sam shared a look with Dean. They’d talk about this later.

The reverend didn’t seem terribly affected by the loss of his daughter’s boyfriend. He even praised the boy for sacrificing his life to protect the girl. Honestly, when Dean slammed the door closed to interrupt the man, Sam had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Instead, he slapped Dean’s arm, and Dean gave an exasperated sigh at the reprimand.

The reverend went on and the brothers went to sit in one of the back pews. As Sam was taking his seat, his eyes met with a girl towards the front. Her caramel locks reflected the multicolored light from the stained glass windows high above. Sam gave her a polite smile, and she ducked her head away from him.

“So, please, let us pray for peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children,” the reverend finished, bowing his head. The congregation followed his lead in a moment of silence. Sam did so as well, in a sign of respect, and nudged Dean to do the same when his idiot brother spaced out next to him.

At the conclusion of the meeting, people got up in a huge crowd to go their separate ways. Sam whispered to Dean, “You go check on Klaus. I’ll talk to the girl.”

Dean waggled his brows. “Don’t have too much fun while I’m away.”

Sam screwed up his face, appalled at the suggestion. “Ew, dude, no. She just lost her boyfriend.”

“So? When has that ever stopped us.”

He shook his head in denial. “Just . . . no.” Not after Jessica. Not so soon. He couldn’t disrespect her like that.

Dean seemed to understand, because he merely sighed and nodded. “Fine. But one day, you’re gonna have to put yourself back out there. You can’t just . . . swear yourself off. It’s not healthy.”

“I’ll decide for myself what’s healthy and what’s not, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

Sam watched as Dean walked out, then went around from person to person trying to find Lori. His ears caught on to the name and he drew closer to the source, finding the caramel haired girl from before, hugging a woman with a black coiled mane.

“Are you Lori?” he asked as he came up to her once her friend was gone. She twisted around to face him, surprise in her features.

“Yeah,” she gave a hesitant smile and brushed her hair behind her ear.

“My name is Sam. My brother Dean is the one who interrupted the meeting.”

“Oh, right.” She nodded, recognition flitting through her eyes.

“Sorry,” Sam said, sheepishly. “He’s not here right now, though, so he won’t be making any rude comments.”

She giggled and bit her lip. “Well, that’s a relief.”

He huffed a short laugh and put his hands in his front pockets. “We just transferred here to the University.”

Lori nodded along, smiling wider. “It’s a quiet town, but the parties can get pretty crazy.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I bet. Hey, listen, I don’t mean to bother you, but me and my brother heard about what happened. I wanted to apologize. I kind of know what you’re going through right now. I . . . recently lost my girlfriend, too.” He shuffled his weight, slightly uncomfortable about the topic. “It’s something you don’t forget.”

Her smile faded, eyes taking on a haunted look. As she opened her mouth to speak, the reverend came up behind her. “Ah. Dad. Um, this is Sam. He and his brother Dean are new to the University.”

“It’s so nice to see young people who are open to the Lord’s message,” the reverend said as he shook Sam’s hand. “Thank you for joining us during this hard time.”

Sam nodded and the three of them lapsed into awkward silence. He wanted to ask Lori more questions, but her father wouldn’t leave. He tried to think of a way to get Lori alone. “Um--”

“Oh, reverend,” Klaus suddenly appeared by Sam’s side, dressed in his ruby red dress and fluttering long eyelashes at the man. The reverend recoiled at the sight, alarmed at Klaus’s appearance. “I’m so  _ glad _ that I found you. Tell these big fools that dresses are for girls  _ and _ boys!” He jerked a thumb at Sam and Dean, the latter running up behind him.

“I-I--”

“So sorry,” Dean panted, taking Klaus’s arm. “This is our little brother. He’s kinda--” he whistled and circled a finger around his temple. “Could you maybe give us some of your wisdom? It would help.”

“I beg pardon?” Klaus frowned, but Sam could tell it was an act. What the hell were these two doing? “I am completely sane! The ghosts agree with me, right?” He glanced to the side and nodded along to whoever was there, if anyone. “See!”

“If you could . . . I don’t know, even just give a blessing of some sort?”

“Of course,” the reverend took Klaus’s other arm and frogmarched him away. Sam noticed that Klaus winced at the sudden and unwanted touch, but he quickly morphed his face to something more delighted in a second. Sam might have imagined it. “This is a very serious case!”

As they disappeared around the bend, Sam was left alone with a gaping Lori. “That’s . . . your little brother?”

Sam coughed into his hand, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Yes. He’s been through a lot lately and it’s starting to affect him negatively.”

She twisted her mouth into an “o”. He decided to change the subject swiftly before she ran off.

“What are the police saying about all this? About what happened to your boyfriend.”

Lori hesitated, but as Sam led her further away from where Klaus had been, she seemed more willing to open up. In fact, she seemed pretty bitter when she said, “Well, they don’t have much to go on. I think they blame me for that.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, tilting his brows up in sympathy.

“My story,” she explained. “I was so scared I guess I was . . . seeing things.”

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.”

They stopped, gazes locked, hazel meeting brown. She shifted closer, lips twitching and eyes welling. Had anyone believed her? Given her the benefit of the doubt? Then again, when faced with the unknown, people tended to rationalize to keep their sanity intact. Keep their reality from shifting.

“I . . .” she swallowed. “I heard scratching outside, loud and earsplitting, like nails on a chalkboard. Rich got out to look for the source while I waited in the car. That’s when the car shook, something scraping along the side and popping one of the tires. The widows cracked. When I looked up again to find Rich, he was missing. I was scared. So I locked the doors and hid under the dash. That’s when I heard scratching on the roof of the car.”

She took a deep breath, Sam paying attention to every word. “Once it was quiet enough, I got out of the car to make a run for it. When I glanced back . . .” She covered her lips. “Rich was hanging upside down over the car, his front slashed open a-and dripping--”

“It’s okay,” he said, holding out his hands. “You don’t have to say more.”

She nodded in gratitude, seeming grateful to have gotten it all out. She took a shaky breath in and a calming one out. “I just wish I could have done something, you know? I just sat there . . .”

“I know,” Sam said. He completely understood. Jessica’s screams still haunted him. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! This chapter was more of a build up, but we'll get into the action soon.  
> The interaction between Klaus and the reverend was hilarious to me. Idk if it would be for you guys lol


	21. Where's My Mind?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang figures out who's behind the killing, now they just need to find out how to stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was last chapter's title a pun? Yes, yes it was. I do not apologize.  
> I'm starting classes tomorrow, so I probably won't be updating as frequently. I'll still stick to my schedule of Thursdays as best I can, though, so if I miss one someone can yell at me.

Klaus thought, in his most humble opinion, that his plan was flawless and spectacular in every way. Ben, in his “humble opinion”, thought that Klaus was a complete moron.

Distracting the reverend was smart, he’ll give him credit for that. But thinking that playing the “I’m mentally insane and a cross-dresser, please pray it away!” card to gain information out of the man was ridiculous. The fact that Dean went with it boggled Ben’s mind.

But here they were, inside the chapel filled with ghosts that hadn’t yet seen Klaus but would at any moment, gleaning any information that they could while Sam talked to Lori. Ben had noticed that Klaus was uncomfortable with the reverend’s touch; he hated any touch that he didn’t initiate first. Now, the reverend was giving Klaus a blessing or whatever while Klaus paid barely any attention as he tried to keep as incognito as possible so the ghosts wouldn’t attack him all at once. Harder than one would think, since the whole place was swarming and Klaus was like a light in a dark room to them. 

This was a terrible, stupid, ridiculous idea. Why did Klaus never listen to him?

“Amen,” the reverend finished, taking his hands away from Klaus’s curly-haired head. 

“Right, thank you so much,” Dean looped an arm around Klaus’s shoulder, spooking the other. Ben clenched his teeth. He’d have to remember to tell Sam and Dean later about some of Klaus’s triggers.

Klaus relaxed after a few seconds once he realized who was touching him. “Yes, thank you, Rev!” He batted his lashes in that special way that usually got him a bed for the night. Ben rolled his eyes as the poor reverend shuffled uncomfortably.

“You’re most welcome. I pray for your continued wellbeing,” he said.

“Say, reverend, do you have any tips for rowdy teenagers like Klaus?” Dean asked. “You see, our parents are gone and we’re all he’s got left. It would help.”

“Of course,” the reverend said as he led them to a pew. “When Lori was a teenager, I had to keep a special eye on her. So many troubling things happen at this age, as you know.” He pointedly glanced at Klaus’s state of dress, and Ben felt a sense of offence on Klaus’s behalf. Klaus, though, just continued to stare at nothing, eyes glazing over.

“I never allowed her to date until she was out on her own. Boys tend to lure unsuspecting girls into situations they don’t know how to handle, and take advantage of them. I wanted to make sure that she knew what to do should such a situation arise. She had sworn herself off until marriage, you know. That way she’d remain pure until such a time.”

“Of course,” Dean squeezed Klaus’s shoulder, and the boy nodded along. He wasn’t paying much attention, but Ben usually paid enough attention for the both of them, so it was fine. Ben allowed for him to check out in a situation like this.

The ghosts became more restless, whispers dancing between pews.

“So what did you think when you learned that Lori had a boyfriend?” Dean asked.

“Well, I didn’t know about him until the accident. She wanted a more private life outside of me, so she didn’t talk much about anything personal. It worried me. The lessons I had taught her when she was younger would have to have been enough.” The man sighed. “I just wish that he didn’t have to die in such a horrible way, though I’m glad he protected my daughter.”

Dean nodded and shifted when Klaus flinched at a particularly nasty looking ghost that got too close. “And her story? Did you believe what she said about it?”

The reverend sighed and shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face. “No. I think it was very traumatizing to her, and that seeing her boyfriend dead caused some . . . hallucinations, perhaps.” His eyes flicked to Klaus, who dodged a swipe from a ghost. “Sometimes the mind can come up with things in a trying situation.”

Dean stood, worry crossing his features for no longer than a moment. “Speaking of . . . I think I should get my brother back to the car. He’s having a hard time coping, and I think talking about . . . you know, death--is affecting him.”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” the man stood with them. “Please, make sure he is taken care of.”

Dean smiled. “We will.”

Ben agreed wholeheartedly.

Later, at the library, Dean and Sam left Klaus at a table and walked through some of the rows in search of information. Dean was worried about Klaus and how spaced out he seemed after being in the chapel, but hopefully being in a quiet place filled with people would help? Dean turned to Sam.

“So, you believe her?”

“I don’t know, there was something in her eyes . . . She believed what she was saying.” Sam explained some of what Lori had told him.

“Wait, hanging upside down, that sounds like--”

“Like the Hookman legend, I know,” Sam nodded.

“That’s one of the most famous urban legends,” Dean said. “You don’t think that we’re dealing with  _ the _ Hookman?”

“Every urban legend has a source, a place where it all began.”

“What about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures? The invisible killer?”

“Well . . . maybe the Hookman isn’t a man at all. What if it’s some kind of spirit?”

Dean’s eyes found themselves back on Klaus, still slumped in the same chair and eyes vacant. “. . . You want Klaus to make sure?”

“It’s worth a shot. I mean, it would make sense, right?”

“And if it is a spirit?”

“What do you mean?”

Dean bit his lip and drew his eyes back to his brother. “Look, something happened back at the chapel. It had Klaus really spooked. You know how he acted in the car, right?”

Sam pursed his lips and didn’t answer.

“Yeah. He was jumpy in there and his eyes kept darting around . . . he was scared, Sam. I don’t know why, but being in the chapel, near a graveyard, really freaked him out. What if going up against ghosts isn’t such a good idea for him? What if it hurts him more?”

“But . . . he might be the only one that can solve problems like this,” Sam argued. “We can be there for him to fall back on, but we need him, Dean.”

Anger surged through Dean suddenly, surprising him. They weren’t just going to  _ use _ Klaus for their own gain! That was wrong on so many levels. They shouldn’t have to rely on him like that, put all that pressure on him. He took a moment to calm himself before he spoke.

“Sammy, we’ve hunted ghosts before. We don’t need to hurt Klaus to get the job done.”

Hurt flashed in Sam’s eyes. “That . . . that isn’t what I meant. I know it’s not ideal--”

“Sam--”

“--but this hunt is already difficult. Searching through records for hours will put us back, and someone else could get harmed. I’m saying, if we have something to help us get things done faster, we should use it. If Klaus can identify who this guy is, we can gank him before the situation gets really bad.”

Dean shook his head, hating how right Sam was. He didn’t like it one bit, and he could tell Sam didn’t either. Pointing a finger at Sam’s chest, Dean said, “We do things the old fashioned way first. We search, and if we can find something within the next few hours, then we don’t resort to having to use Klaus like that.”

“And if we don’t find anything?”

Dean shrugged helplessly. “Then we ask for his help. It’s up to him if he wants to, though, understood?”

Sam smiled, relief in his gaze. “Absolutely. I was thinking the same.”

Two hours later and they had a guy. Jacob Karns, a preacher from 1862 that killed 13 prostitutes and either left them in blood soaked beds or hung them upside down from trees to stand as an example. The murder weapon was a silver hook that replaced the man’s hand after he had had an accident a few years before the murders.

Klaus was looking much better about an hour in, having a quiet conversation with Ben and occasionally asking questions here and there while the Winchesters worked. Some people gave the boy the stink eye from the way he was dressed, but Klaus didn’t mind. He just chatted away like he normally did, though his eyes weren’t as bright as they usually were. Dean was just glad that he was getting better after what happened in the chapel.

He was also glad that they found something before the library closed. He didn’t want to have to use Klaus to figure out killer ghost identities.

So here they were, Klaus sleeping in the back of the Impala while the Winchesters searched the 9 mile road where the murders took place, and, funnily enough, right where the frat boy had been killed.

“If this is a spirit, buckshot won’t do much good,” Sam said as Dean unloaded the trunk.

“Yeah, rocksalt,” Dean countered, handing Sam a few rounds.

Sam seemed impressed by that. “Huh. Salt being a spirit deterrent.”

“Yep,” Dean said, feeling slight pride at the invention. “Won’t kill ‘em, but it’ll slow ‘em down.”

“That’s pretty good. You and Dad think of this?”

“I told you,” Dean said, smug. “You don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius.”

He could  _ feel _ Sam’s eye roll, and he preened.

Something creaked ahead of them in the trees, and they stopped. Sam lifted his gun while Dean trained his eyes on the spot. “Over there,” he whispered as he gestured minutely through the trees. Sam levelled the gun where he gestured to.

More creaking, and the snapping of branches. Footsteps creeped closer, the night air chilled between them but electric with tension. Dean narrowed his gaze, trying to make out what was coming closer.

“Put the gun down now!” a police officer shouted, storming out of the trees. His gun was raised, and Dean threw his hands up while Sam hastily dropped his weapon. “Hands behind your head.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Dean held out one hand in a placating gesture. “Okay, okay.” He shrugged off his duffle.

“Get on your knees!”

“Alright.” Dean complied, Sam already down. They placed their hands behind their heads.

“Now get down on your bellies. Come on, do it!”

“He had the gun,” Dean complained. They did as asked.

The cop rushed forward and started reciting their rights as the cuffs came out.

“Oh shi--” Dean’s eyes widened and he wiggled under the cop. The cop barked orders at him to stay still.

Dean, eyes frantic, turned to Sam. Sam seemed to understand just as he did.

Klaus was still in the car.  _ Klaus was asleep in the car in an area where a ghost murdered someone _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This one was a lot shorter, I know. It felt right to end it where it did, though, and since I'm starting classes it felt like it would be a good idea to post it now rather than have it out on Thursday and then make you wait a week for the next one.


	22. I Hope You Make It to the Day You're 28 Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus's anxiety gets the best of him. Sam and Dean escape a cell. Another murder has taken place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! This chapter is unedited (because I ain't in the mood today) and my mental state is shaky. One of my teachers is screwing the whole class over. I had to write to keep from losing it.  
> But! I had fun with this one.

Klaus woke to screaming.

Now, that wasn’t an unusual thing for him, being who he was. So, naturally, he immediately assumed it was a ghost and rolled over, pressing his free hand against his uncovered ear with a moan.

It was cold and dark and there was screaming and  _ why was the backseat turning into hard stone--? _

“Klaus, you’re okay,” Ben whispered above him, sounding worried. What for, Klaus didn’t know, since Ben had seen him like this enough times to no longer be concerned. At least, he thought so.

Klaus buried his face further into the bench seat--(the cold stone of a mausoleum)--and breathed. At least he tried to. Air wasn’t really entering his lungs right. Something was blocking it’s entry into his lungs. Something lodged in his throat.

He choked on a breath, coughing to try and dislodge whatever it was, but it wouldn’t budge. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse.

It felt like someone was grabbing his throat and squeezing, and terror shot through him. He could make ghosts real, now. Was one of them strangling him?

"Klaus, breathe," Ben's voice cut through the cloud that surrounded his head. And when did that happen? "Breathe. In, and out. Slow."

He was trying! The cloud was growing bigger and bigger, and his eyes grew hazy. It was too cold, too dark, too  _ much _ \--

Klaus. Klaus.  _ Klausklausklaus-- _

"Four!"

That snapped Klaus out of whatever funk he was in, and he took a desperate, ragged breath that ended in a cough. He wheezed as he was suddenly thrown from the mausoleum into the backseat of the Impala. The emotional whiplash almost made him gag, and he curled in tighter underneath his jacket.

Ben hovered over him, expression filled with worry and fear. When their eyes met, Ben released a sigh.

“Hey. Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” Klaus’s voice was scratchy.

“Shh,” Ben held a finger to his lips, and Klaus looked at him inquisitively. “Be quiet, and stay down.”

“Ben?”

The screaming started up again. It was closer than Klaus thought, and he shuddered.

"Who is that? What's going on?" Klaus made sure to whisper. Ben still cringed.

"It's the frat boy. He's on a repeat of how he died."

And that . . . Klaus hated ghosts like that. No wonder Ben wanted him to stay quiet. No wonder Klaus had had a flashback. Those types didn't realize they were dead, stuck in a never ending loop for all eternity in the moments of their demise. The last time he had met one, he had gone out and took so many pills he had to have his stomach pumped by Mom.

Because as soon as they saw Klaus . . . As soon as they realized that he could see them . . . They became aggressive and handsy and screamed until his ears bled and he begged-- _ help me--! _

But they hadn't been spotted. Not yet, due to Ben's smart thinking.

"Where's Sam and Dean?" He whispered, no more than a breath past numb lips. He didn't want to jinx himself just by thinking of the boy that was in pure agony, so he changed the subject.

“Uh,” Ben winced. Klaus narrowed his eyes.

“Ben? Where’s Sam and Dean.”

“They were kind of . . . arrested.”

“. . . Ex _ squeeze _ me? Repeat that again for me, brother dear, because I thought you said that Sam and Dean, actual hunters and killers of evil beings that go bump in the night, were arrested by some mortal cop who probably knows nothing about the supernatural.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Ben said, sounding grumpy, but there was an undercurrent of worry in his tone.

“How on  _ earth _ did that happen!”

Ben shushed him, and for a terrifying moment, everything was silent. Nothing but the wind blowing overhead could be heard, the leaves rustling to the tune. Klaus’s blood ran cold.

The screeching began once more, and Klaus could breathe again. Ben let out a harsh sigh.

“They let themselves be arrested. The cop saw them with a gun.”

Klaus buried his face in his jacket sleeve and scrubbed futilely at his eyes until stars burst behind his lids. “And they didn’t knock him out?”

“The cop had a gun on them. I don’t think they wanted to cause any trouble.”

Klaus groaned into his sleeve, “So, we’re on our own?”

“We’re on our own,” Ben confirmed.

Klaus wiggled around in the backseat, anxiety creeping in. He needed to get out of the car. He needed to stretch his legs. ( _ He needed a joint-- _ )

He suddenly sat up and fumbled with the door handle, Ben hissing as Klaus went through him. “Klaus!” Ben reached out towards him, but Klaus needed  _ out _ and he needed it  _ now _ .

The door flung open with a loud wail, and Klaus tumbled from the car. He relaxed as cool air whipped around him, filling his insides until he couldn’t hold any more, and warmth leaving in a cloud. Ben hovered at his side, fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for his brother but didn’t know how. Klaus didn’t let him.

The screaming of the ghost continued. He didn’t look at it, already knowing from what the Winchesters had described that it would be gruesome and unholy. Knew that the boy would be hanging upside down, his blood pouring out in waterfalls. He refused to see it, hoping it would leave him well enough alone.

He hadn’t called Vanya yet. The weekend would be over by tomorrow.

He didn’t have the energy yet. He’d ask Ben to remind him.

“Klaus?”

Klaus turned to Ben, his jacket hanging loosely on his shoulders and the red dress he still hadn’t taken off a bit too open for this kind of weather. He was always so, so cold.

He wished Ben was alive, in that moment. Ben used to have the best hugs, the warmth he gave like a furnace. He wanted Ben’s warmth now, wanted his brother’s secure arms around him as he drifted away.

Ben could see it. He knew Klaus better than Klaus knew himself, sometimes. Ben’s sorrowful gaze only broke Klaus’s heart further.

They were totally screwed up, weren’t they?

The screaming stopped. The night was cold. The song repeated.

“Klaus.” Ben’s hand floated above his shoulder. He stopped, eyes flicking to something behind Klaus. They narrowed, brows coming together.

“Ben?” Klaus turned around, trying to see what his brother saw. Nothing. Just trees and a sign with a crooked line embedded through it. The mark that Hookman had left before he murdered the frat boy.

“I . . .” Ben shook his head, confused. “I thought I saw something. Maybe not.”

A niggling feeling grew in Klaus’s chest. Something didn’t feel right.

“Maybe you saw a deer?” he suggested.

“Maybe . . . I think you should get back in the car.”

The feeling of  _ wrong _ grew stronger. Klaus paused, ears attuned to the area and eyes trained on the trees. Leaves rustled. The screaming stopped.

The screaming did not start up again.

Klaus’s breath hitched. “Ben, something’s not right--”

Scraping, ear-piercingly loud, shattered through the quiet of the night. Klaus clapped his hands over his ears, eyes darting around.

A figure, too dark to make out any defining features other than a blob of  _ wrong _ , stood next to the sign several feet away. Silver flashed in the moonlight, sharp and deadly. The figure wafted away like it was merely a smoke cloud in the breeze as soon as Klaus’s eyes found it.

“Klaus, you should get in the car,” Ben whispered. The dead frat boy was nowhere in sight.

“What--”

Trees splintered to Klaus’s right, wood flying inches from his face. Klaus yelped and dove into the backseat of the vehicle. The figure stalked out of the trees, the hook at his side glinting menacingly. Klaus grabbed for the door and slammed it closed, locking it and all the others.

“Go away,” Klaus whimpered, holding out his hand. “Go away!”

The figure came closer. Klaus could see its features, see the yellowed teeth under the stretch of cracked lips in a facsimile of a smile. Eyes, dark and shadowed, peered out beneath a wide-brimmed hat. Long, stringy hair hung around its face.

“Go  _ away _ !” Klaus shouted, but he didn’t feel the familiar tug. He didn’t see a flash of pale blue. All he felt was sinking dread.

The Hookman raised his arm, then came down with so much force that the window shattered and part of the door dented. Klaus scrambled back until he was against the far door.

“Klaus!” Ben yelped. His brother shoved himself at the Hookman, but he just tumbled through. “Wh-What?”

Klaus unlocked the door behind him and clambered out the other side of the car. 

He ran.

He wasn’t fast enough.

The Hookman appeared before him, hook poised right above Klaus’s chest, aimed right for his heart. Klaus stuttered to a stop, his feet tangling together and causing him to fall back. He closed his eyes, heart thumping painfully fast against his ribs. 

He heard a swoosh. He felt a tug. His jacket tore and he felt pressure on his fragile, pale skin. It would tear like paper.

He would bleed dry on a dirt road, alone except for his dead brother.

The hook didn’t make it past a light scratch. His dress wasn’t drenched in a dark, crimson red. He fell onto his back. He gaped, trying to get air into unresponding lungs.

Above him, Ben stood like a guardian angel, his tentacles wrapped firmly around the Hookman. Klaus could make out the blue dancing across his fingers. Not enough to make Ben real. How was this happening?

The Hookman disappeared the same way he had earlier, crumbling apart in the wind.

Ben stayed above Klaus for several moments, Klaus finally able to take halting breaths while his brother kept his eyes peeled and the Horror unleashed. The breeze was silent. The trees were calm. Anxiety crippled Klaus like a bad leg.

One tentacle looped around Klaus’s middle protectively, and Klaus felt so inexplicably  _ safe _ that it hurt. He curled into it, embracing it like he would his mother’s hugs, and shook silently.

The night went on. Cicadas rumbled in the bushes. The stars blinked mockingly in an inky sky.

The screaming began again.

Klaus welcomed the darkness that came for him.

They were released in the morning, having spent all night in a holding cell. Dean had apparently gotten them out by half-lying and by calling Sam a “dumbass pledge”. Sam would never tell him that it was smart, because he was petty like that.

They were heading out of the police department when they spotted Baby sitting innocuously along the road. Did the cops tow her? Did they find Klaus in the backseat? Surely they would have had more questions if that were the case.

The closer they got, though, the more Sam’s stomach turned. Something was wrong with the Impala. He didn’t know just what until Dean swore.

“Son of a  _ bitch _ !” Dean rushed for his car, and Sam could see the shattered glass and huge dent in the door facing away from the street. It probably looked much worse on the other side.

Sam’s blood chilled and his heart dropped. “ _ Klaus _ . . .”

Dean rounded the car and swore again, then whipped the door open. Immediately, a long blue  _ thing _ shot out of the car and wrapped around Dean. Ben shimmered into view, face pinched and eyes a startling yellow. 

“Ben!” Sam called to him. He held up his hands when Ben whirled to him. “Ben it’s us. It’s Sam and Dean.”

The pained yet determined look in his eyes didn’t fade, but he hadn’t ripped Dean to shreds, so Sam took it as a win.

“Ben, where’s Klaus?” Sam asked, tone gentle.

At the name, Ben’s face hardened, and he growled angrily. He didn’t hurt Dean.

“Where is Klaus?” Sam asked again. He inched forward, the feral look that Ben had alarming him.

Just what happened to them while Sam and Dean weren’t there to protect them?

“He is safe,” Ben said, but his voice wasn’t really . . . his. It was ancient. Layered. Several voices melting together. “We are keeping him safe.”

“He’s hurt,” Dean said, eyes trained onto something in the car.  _ Klaus _ . “He’s pale and shaking. Let us help him.”

“No!” Ben snarled. “He is  _ ours _ .  _ We _ will help our brother.”

“Ben,” Sam pleaded. “We won’t hurt him, we promise. We just want to help.”

Ben hesitated, eyes flashing between brown and yellow. “You promise not to let him get hurt?”

Sam nodded, a small smile on his face. “We promise that  _ both _ of you will be safe.”

The tentacle unwrapped itself from around Dean and made its way back under Ben’s clothes. “We have used too much of our brother’s energy. We kept him safe all night.”

“What happened?” Sam asked softly, opening the side door and sliding in next to Ben. Klaus lay under the ghost, deathly pale and shivering. Dark circles cut deep under his eyes, and Sam pointed to the gash in Klaus’s jacket to Dean. Dean nodded and took over in first aid.

“Our brother was attacked,” Ben said, but his eyes were slowly changing back to their normal, soothing brown. His voice, too, was becoming lighter, more like the Ben they knew. “A man with a hook. I pushed my way through the barrier to help him. I used his energy as a battery. It wasn’t as taxing on him, so I was able to stay like this all night.” Ben glanced to Klaus, who had a white-knuckle grip on Ben’s ankle. Even when Dean tried to release his fingers, Klaus stubbornly held on. “I drove us here.”

“That’s . . .” Amazing, really. Fascinating. Beyond what Klaus has been capable of before. These two were really amounting to something great. “Incredible,” he settled on.

Dean sighed and ran a hand through Klaus’s curls. “He’s alright. Just a scratch on his chest. He’s probably mentally damaged more than anything.”

“His powers didn’t work,” Ben said as he started to fade. Sam supposed that he deemed Klaus safe, now that the older brothers were here. “Against the Hookman, that is. Something wasn’t right. He is a spirit, though.” He faded from view, and Klaus relaxed in his sleep. Color began to return to his face, but he gripped at the bench seat just as tightly as he did Ben’s ankle.

Sam made eye contact with Dean, and his big brother just shrugged helplessly. “I’m just glad he’s still alive,” Dean said. “I’m pissed that Baby got damaged, though.”

His brother frowned at the dent in the Impala’s door, and Sam shook his head with a breathy laugh. “Of course.”

“Don’t disrespect her,” Dean growled as he pointed at him. Sam just shook his head.

“I would never do that to my home.”

The doors to the police department burst open and cops ran out of the building and to their cars. Sam watched on, the cars pulling out in a rush with sirens blaring.

“Now, just what is  _ that _ all about?” Dean asked, voice flat. Sam hummed.

Dean started the engine and followed the direction the cops went.

Hazy awareness came to Klaus slowly. First, it was his hearing (mutterings of deeper voices and Ben--Benny, Ben,  _ Ben _ \--telling him everything was alright). Next was his feeling (soft leather, scratchy floor, warmth surrounding him). Last was his sight (muddled oranges and yellows flecking over the ceiling, big brown eyes watching him worriedly, and a red tassel next to his nose).

Klaus sat up with a groan, holding his head. He had the  _ worst _ headache in existence. His dress shifted closer to his hip, but he didn’t have the energy to care about modesty (not that he ever did) so he didn’t bother to move it back down.

His noise drew the attention of the people on the front bench and he saw Sam and Dean smiling at him.

“Klaus,” Dean said, tone even but relief in his eyes. “You’re awake.”

“Where were you guys?” Klaus whined. “And also, why are you here now? Weren’t you, like, arrested?”

Dean snorted, and Sam glared at him. “Don’t you dare.”

The eldest held up his hands in surrender, but amusement still shone through.

“We got out. Found you in the Impala with Ben standing guard,” Sam explained.

Klaus turned to Ben. “You were?”

Ben blushed and hunched his shoulders up to his ears. “The Horror was very demanding. Pretty sure they just kinda . . . took over.” He flapped a hand.

“Awwe, isn’t that so  _ sweet _ ,” Klaus said in an annoyingly high voice. “Benny, you  _ love _ me.”

“Shut up, stupid,” Ben grumbled, pretending to shove him away. Klaus snickered.

“You  _ love  _ me. You  _ need _ me. You wanna  _ hold _ me,” Klaus sang.

Ben laughed, and Klaus grinned. Score for annoying brother. “If you hadn’t nearly died last night, I’d be pissed at you right now.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“How the  _ hell _ did you get a ghost to attack you when we haven’t even been here two days?”

Klaus shrugged. “Must be my charm.”

Ben glowered, but Klaus assumed that was his usual broody self, so he turned back to the Winchesters, both of whom had tuned out the conversation to discuss privately together.

“So, what’s the news?”

"The Hookman didn’t just go after you last night,” Dean said, suddenly grim. “Lori’s roommate just bit the dust.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know if the tension is okay. I know a few people who have read my stuff and are like: "There isn't enough tension and the climax is boring" or "Add more metaphors to make it good, cuz similes are crap in a scene that's meant to be crazy"  
> And, well . . . I actually do want to write well, lol. If you guys got some tips, I'm happy  
> (If not, that's okay too)  
> Thank you for reading!


	23. Everything's Been So Messed Up Here Lately

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanya's made a comeback! Lori and Sam have a conversation, and the Hookman strikes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I honestly didn't think I'd have this out so soon, but I've been stress writing a lot lately, and well . . . here we be.

“If I was attacked on the 9 mile, and so was the frat boy, why would Lori’s roommate be attacked?” Klaus asked, leaning back into his seat with an exhausted yawn.

Sympathy tugged at Dean’s chest. “We’re thinking maybe something else is going on. The spirit is  _ definitely _ Jacob Karns, though. We found his mark on the girls’ wall.”

“You found it . . .” Klaus sat up straighter, eyes narrowed. “ _ Please _ tell me you two didn’t go to an active crime scene and get your prints all over it.”

Sam glanced at Dean, and Dean just wiggled uncomfortably.

“Well, we didn’t touch the actual  _ scene _ . . .” he defended.

“Holy  _ hell _ , I can’t believe you two are so stupid,” Klaus tugged at his curls.

“Hey,” Sam brought out the puppy eyes, and Klaus softened lightly. Dean smirked internally. No one could resist. “We needed to know what was going on, and if it was, in fact, Jacob Karns.”

“But you didn’t need to almost get arrested again for tampering with evidence! I swear, you guys are gonna put me in an early grave with the amount of stress you put me through on the daily.” He tilted his head. “Yeah, my thoughts exactly. Speaking of, I need to call Vanya. What do you mean the day is almost over!” He lunged for his phone, buried under his other clothes (that he had yet to change back into).

“Oh, good, you have something to do while we take care of what Lori’s been up to.” Dean grunted, turning the engine over.

Klaus frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Jacob Karns was buried in an unmarked grave,” Sam patiently explained. “It’s near impossible to track down an unmarked grave, so we’re looking into Lori for any clues. We’re about to stop by the library and a party nearby, ask around for where Lori might be, and we didn’t think you’d like to go inside the second option where a lot of temptations are. Are you okay to stay out in the car?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean caught Klaus in the mirror, looking choked up. “Y-Yeah.” The kid cleared his throat. “Yes. Thank you.”

Klaus chuckled and rubbed his eyes. “Ben says that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Go and have fun, you two! Don’t do anything I would!”

It was night by the time that Sam and Dean left the car to go into the party. Ben watched Klaus as his brother dialed Vanya’s number. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, but . . . well, everything Klaus did, Ben did too. Ben was basically a part of Klaus, just as much as Klaus was a part of Ben. Unhealthy? Yeah, but Ben was dead, so it didn’t matter anymore.

He didn’t mention anything when Klaus held the phone out so Ben could listen in anyway.

“. . . Hello?” Vanya answered on the second ring.

“Vanya!” Klaus sang, nervous aura buried beneath faux eccentricity. Ben rolled his eyes, but huddled closer to his brother so he could hear his quiet sister’s voice.

“Klaus?” Vanya’s voice grew louder. “Is everything okay? You almost missed the time to call . . . I almost thought that you . . .”

She didn’t say more, but they understood all the same. She thought they weren’t going to keep their promise, that they would forget about her.

“No, no,” Klaus reassured. “I’m sorry I didn’t call beforehand. I forgot, and Benny had to remind me. Um . . . that and I got in a bit of trouble and passed out in the back of a car until just a little bit ago.”

Vanya ignored the part about Ben (Ben pretended that it didn’t hurt, but it always did), and instead demanded, “Trouble? What kind of trouble? And what car?”

Klaus raised a brow. Vanya wasn’t one to demand things, usually. She preferred to wait things out and casually place her two cents in when there was a quiet moment, only to take it back again. She must have been really concerned.

“Nothing to worry about, my dear,” Klaus flapped a hand around. “I’m with my new buddies! The ones I told you about, remember?”

“No, because you didn’t really talk about them.”

“Oh!” Klaus smacked his head. “My bad. Sam and Dean Winchester. We’re going on this long road trip and it’s pretty fantastic. They got me out of some trouble here and there. Really great guys.”

“You’re alone with two strangers?” Vanya asked, sounding extremely worried. “Klaus, you don’t think . . . aren’t you trusting these people a little too quickly? What if they try to do something to you? And what happened last night?”

“No no! They’re good people. One even went to Stanford! And what happened last night . . .” Klaus glanced at Ben, but Ben shook his head. He didn’t want Klaus telling their little sister about a ghost attacking him. With her severe anxiety, it might put her in a tailspin. “I got really wasted,” Klaus said instead.

Ben smacked his forehead.

Vanya sighed disappointedly on the other end, and Ben wanted to grab the phone and tell her that Klaus was a  _ liar _ , but he couldn’t because if Klaus having been attacked would have scared her, the voice of her dead brother would probably give her a heart attack. She just . . . believed him so quickly. Were all of their siblings like that? Just ready to believe that Klaus was a junkie, a failure, a letdown?

By the look on Klaus’s face, the answer was yes. Pain etched deep lines in his brows. Ben hated it.

“Really, Klaus? Didn’t you say you were getting sober?” Ben had to strain to hear her words, quiet as they were. Disappointed. Klaus hated it when people were disappointed in him. At least, when those people were those he actually cared for.

“I am!” Klaus squeaked. “I haven’t done any drugs for like a month!”

Vanya’s tone shifted to a warmer sound. “And I’m proud of you for that. I just wish you could take out all of your vices.”

Klaus hummed and fiddled with one of his tassels. “Well, enough of that. How are you? Last time we talked, you mentioned a possible friend?”

Vanya hesitated, seeming to not want to drop the subject just yet. With a sigh, she said, “Yeah.” He could hear her smile through the phone. “Her name is Emma. She’s really nice to me.”

Ben softened. The wistful tone she carried twisted his heartstrings, but he was so happy that she found a friend. Back in the Academy, they were hardly allowed to like  _ each other, _ nevermind make friends outside the premises. And Vanya, their sweet little sister who had such a big heart, deserved the world.

Maybe Emma could help in giving her the world.

“She sounds nice, based off of  _ that _ tone,” Klaus waggled his brows. Vanya just giggled.

“She’s nothing more than a friend, Klaus. That and we’re only sixteen.”

“Hey, I lost my virginity way younger than sixteen. Just sayin’.”

Vanya let out an exasperated sigh, but Ben winced and hid his face under his hood. That . . . was not a good memory. Klaus hadn’t even shared all of it, mainly because he couldn’t remember it all, but also because he was drunk and high off of cocaine when he had mentioned it. Ben was terrified at the little that Klaus had shared, and he bet that Klaus forcibly blocked the rest of his memory before he lost it.

“Like I said. Just a friend.”

“Well, what is this  _ friend _ like, other than nice? Oh, I bet Diego is totally being an overprotective mom!”

Ben huffed. Diego would. Although, maybe not so much with a girl?

“I haven’t actually talked about her to the others yet,” Vanya said.

Klaus gasped. “Does this mean it’s a secret just between  _ us _ ? Vanya, I am so privileged. I swear on my right elbow that I will never tell a  _ soul _ .”

Vanya, used to Klaus’s weird antics, just huffed a laugh and went into an explanation of what this Emma girl was like. “She has really long, soft looking brown hair. She’s in the orchestra for fun, but she wants to be a dancer when she gets older. She plays the flute, and she’s really good! I told her that I would go to her first dance performance when she became big, and she said that she would be there for my first big concert when I got first chair.”

“First chair?” Klaus asked.

“Yeah. It’s like . . .” she paused, trying to find a way to put it into words that Klaus would understand. “It’s like the quarterback of the orchestra.”

Klaus nodded like he had any idea what that meant. Ben rolled his eyes. “She means that it’s the highest and most coveted position in an orchestra. It means that she would be the coolest person there, the one that everyone leads off of, other than the conductor.”

“Oh! Thank you, Ben. But no need for the big words. I’m too dumb to understand.”

Ben snorted and Vanya went silent.

“Do . . . Klaus, do you still see Ben?” Vanya asked quietly.

“All the damn time,” Klaus groaned. “He’s a naggy little thing. But he does remind me to call you every week!”

“And you said you were sober, right?”

“Yep! Clean as a whistle. Or, well, maybe not a whistle. People blow into whistles and get their spit all in it and that’s pretty nasty.”

“Klaus,” Vanya’s soft voice interrupted before Klaus could go down a long segue as he was wont to do. Klaus shut up immediately. “If he’s really there . . . could you tell him that I love him?”

A large lump formed in Ben's throat, and wanted so badly to grab the phone from Klaus and talk to her. He wanted to tell her about stuff that had happened recently. He wanted to listen to her talk about Emma and the orchestra. He wanted to hear her play for him, just for him. He wanted to ask her how she was and if she wanted to hang out sometime soon, like they used to before . . . before.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t grab the phone and tell her he loved her too,  _ so very much _ , because he was dead, and dead brothers don’t talk to their alive sisters that have had severe anxiety since they were four. Because if he did that, she would probably go into shock. Or worse, he’d want to go back to  _ that place _ just to see her and hug her because he  _ missed her so damn much _ \--

“He loves you too, Vanya,” Klaus said sincerely, voice soft and loving. “He really misses you a lot. He wants to talk to you . . .” Ben was shaking his head at Klaus’s questioning glance. “But he can’t. I’m so sorry.”

Vanya took a shaky breath. “Thank you, Klaus. That’s . . . that’s enough for me. I’ll wait for your next call. Bye.”

She hung up before Klaus could return the gesture. His hand dropped to his side, and he tried to peek under Ben’s hood to get a look at him, but Ben just hid himself deeper into himself.

“Ben . . .”

“Don’t,” Ben choked. “Don’t. Please.”

“Okay. Okay, I won’t.” Klaus held up a hand. They remained in silence.

Ben was a coward.

Sam was sent to watch Lori at her house, making sure nothing bad happened, while Dean explained the situation to Klaus and started to hunt down that unmarked grave. They both decided to keep Klaus in the car until they met up again, that way the teen wouldn’t be in any danger mentally or physically. It was the best they could do.

Sam sighed and shouldered his duffle, reading over the stuff he had dug up while at the library. Apparently, there had been another string of murders done by a priest, who claimed it wasn’t him but a ghost. Anyone who the priest had deemed immoral got shanked by a sharp, pointed object. Fit the bill.

They figured that the reverend, Lori’s dad, was behind the killings, having either summoned the ghost of Jacob Karns or that Karns was feeding off of the reverend’s repressed feelings. He wanted to protect his daughter from the dangers of the world, and what better way than having a ghost do the dirty work? A boyfriend he doesn’t approve of? Gone. A roommate who dresses immodestly and drinks? Not a problem anymore.

Klaus, a crossdresser that confuses gender? Better get him out of here before his daughter starts getting  _ ideas _ .

As he came up beside the house, he could hear Lori’s voice, loud and angry. He glanced up to see her and her father having a fight inside, their silhouettes seen clearly with the light on. He heard words like “divorce” and “difficult situation”. Lori seemed to be extremely upset by something that her dad was telling her. A few swears were thrown around, the reverend looking incensed by her words. Sam decided to sit down on a rock outside the house and not get in the middle of that.

He shrugged off his bag and got comfortable, eyes skimming over the house while he let his thoughts take him elsewhere. He wondered if Dean found the unmarked grave. Probably not, especially since they didn’t want to use Klaus in order to find it while it was night. Poor kid had enough trouble during the day near the graveyard. If they put him in there at night, no doubt it would result in his mental health declining significantly.

They wouldn’t take the risk. Not over this. Well . . . not unless it was the last resort.

Plus, Klaus was still in danger while the ghost was still out.

He heard someone walking towards him, footfalls loud in the grass. Someone unguarded, then. He turned to look at who it was, spotting caramel hair that shined under the light of the moon. Lori.

“I saw you from upstairs,” she greeted, amusement obvious. Sam ducked his head, uncomfortable at being caught sneaking around her house. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m . . . keeping an eye on the place,” he said. No point in lying. The girl had already gone through so much in the last few days.

She came to a stop next to the rock he was seated on, keeping a careful distance, but staying relaxed. He could work with that.

“I was worried,” he said.

“About me?”

“. . . Yeah. Sorry.”

She finally stepped closer, a pleasant smile lighting her features, coming to take a seat on the grass beside him. “No, it’s cool.” She gestured behind her. “I already called the cops.”

They laughed and she tucked a strand of hair behind an ear.

“No, seriously,” she said. “I think you’re sweet. Which is probably why you should run away from me as fast as you can.” Her brown eyes dropped to her lap.

“Why would you say that?”

She sighed, dragging her gaze across the lawn. “It’s like I’m cursed or something. People around me keep dying . . .”

Sam reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I . . . think I know how you feel.”

The desperation in her gaze, the need for someone to understand, someone to  _ listen _ , overpowered him in that moment. His heart twisted, and he tried to keep the sting in his eyes from showing.

“No one will talk to me anymore,” she whispered. “Except you. The sheriff thinks I’m a  _ suspect _ .” She shook her head. “And you know what my dad will say? ‘Pray. Have faith.’ What does he know about faith.”

The vitriol in the last statement made Sam purse his lips. The fight from before came to his mind, and he flicked his eyes back to the window, then to her. “I heard you guys fighting before.”

“He’s seeing a woman,” she bit out. “A  _ married _ woman.”

Now  _ that _ was unexpected.

“I just found out,” Lori said. Her voice turned wet, tears glinting in her brown orbs. “She comes to our church with her husband. I know her kids. And he talks to me about religion, about morality?” 

She took a shaky breath, then went on. “It’s like on one hand, you know, just do what you want and be happy, but he taught me-- _ raised _ me to believe that if you do something wrong, you  _ will _ get punished.”

Sam’s brows puckered in sympathy, and he rubbed her arm in a soothing manner.

“I just don’t know what to think anymore.”

They stayed silent for a moment, Lori trying to compose herself and Sam pondering over all that was said. The next moment, she was leaning up and hugging him, burying her face in his neck. Instinctively, he reached around her, awkwardly patting her back.

He hadn’t been hugged by a woman since . . . and it felt really, really nice. Lori’s hair smelled like apricots, and her breath against his neck sent shivers down his spine. Her chest was soft, warm. It sent a terrible pang of loss through him, a reminder of all he had had with Jess.

He held Lori like he had Jess, like she was precious and delicate. A beautiful being that needed to be held softly. She melted into him, bringing her hands up to cup his cheek and the other resting in his brown hair. She pulled back, just enough so that their eyes met, hazel to chestnut. He kept a steady hand on her shoulder, the other dipping down to her waist.

Her breath smelled like peppermint. Would her lips taste the same?

She broke the tension, lips brushing his in quiet askance. He reciprocated, pressing more firmly against her, and she tilted her head to go deeper, explore further. His hand came up without his knowledge, brushing past her jaw and weaving through those caramel strands, his thumb caressing her cheek.

It wasn’t the same. Lori wasn’t Jess, and it hurt all the more when he realized he had led them both on.

He broke away, abruptly shifting the distance between them. Lori, looking the slightest bit disheveled, asked, “Sam?” Her eyes sparkled, confusion creating lines on her forehead.

“Lori,” his voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Biting her lip, Lori sat back on her heels. “Your girlfriend?”

He just looked away, Jess’s memory still fresh in his mind, the pain still biting and raw.

“I’m sorry,” she said, placing a hand on his knee. She lost her boyfriend, too.

Maybe they were just lost souls who came together to make things easier. But this . . . Sam knew that this was wrong. Jess, and Lori, didn’t deserve that.

“Lori,” the reverend’s commanding tone spoke from the back door. Sam’s head whipped to the man, but Lori just sighed and turned around. “Come inside, please.”

“I’ll come in when I’m ready!” Lori shot back defensively, the hand on Sam’s knee tightening.

Her father’s face twisted into a scowl, mainly directed at Sam. 

That scowl shifted to one of pain and terror when a silver, gleaming hook planted itself in his shoulder.

The Hookman grinned, dragging the reverend screaming back inside the house. The door slammed shut behind them.

Lori sat, frozen in place at what had happened, eyes widened in panic.

Sam didn’t hesitate. Reaching through his bag, he grabbed the shotgun filled with salt rounds. He was prepared for something like this happening, he just didn’t expect the reverend to be harmed.

He ran for the door, relieved that it wasn’t locked tight. Bursting into the house, Sam raced to find the reverend.

It helped that the man’s screams and pleads were able to draw him to the source.

He crashed through a door at the top of the stairs, gun at the ready. The reverend held his hands up defensively, and a flash of silver above him began to fall.

Sam shot twice, one round splintering the wooden chair in the corner and the other shattering the window. The Hookman disappeared in a curl of smoke.

“Dad!” Lori shouted, footsteps banging up the stairs. “Dad!”

The man coughed, in obvious pain, but Sam didn’t go to him in case the ghost returned. Lori pushed past him and to her father, kneeling at his side and sobbing.

“Okay. Okay, dad, it’s okay,” she said. Her hands fluttered about, unsure of what to do. The shoulder wound was bleeding heavily, and Sam knew they’d have to call an ambulance. Blood dribbled from the man’s lips, and Lori was near hysteric.

Why? Why did this happen? If the reverend was controlling the Hookman, why did it attack him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Your kind words and helpful critiques give me life ;-;  
> Did I make a reference to Ellen Page's wife Emma? Yes, yes I did.


	24. Where Loose Ends Still Have Uses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion of Hookman!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a really, really good day today. It was fantastic. Put on make up, did my hair fancy, finished everything right on time, and got ahead on homework.  
> Anyway, enjoy this long ass chapter <3

Dean returned to the car, looking exhausted but no less pleased at a job well done. Ben perked up at the sight of him, grateful he was back. The silence that had overtaken the Hargreeves brothers was stifling, but Ben refused to talk about his feelings right now.

They didn’t really talk about stuff like that, even if Klaus was more open to listening. Hypocrite.

That, and Klaus was nervous enough being so close to a graveyard, even if the car was parked down the block. 

Dean had taken all night to find the unmarked grave. Ben was surprised he found it at all. The man looked happy, though, so Ben guessed that it usually took way longer to find unmarked graves. The sun was starting to peak over the trees and birds began to sing. Klaus hadn’t slept a wink, mostly because the hauntings of his mind were overlapping the ghostly howls that flooded the night. He relaxed significantly as morning came, even more so when he spotted Dean coming around the bend.

Dean drummed his hands along the roof of the car to announce his presence, then slipped into the front seat. “It’s done! Hookman is no longer a problem.”

Klaus, next to Ben, wilted into his seat with a sigh of relief. “Great! Now I can leave the car without you worrywarts getting your panties in a twist.”

“Worrywart?” Ben asked. “As if. I would just miss our daily banter.”

“Yes, it must be  _ so boring _ without me.”

“Damn straight.”

“Anything but!” Klaus sang.

Dean’s phone rang. Ben and Klaus shut up long enough for him to take the call.

“Sammy!” Dean stopped, Sam saying something over his greeting. Dean’s smile slipped away, replaced with grim determination. He dropped the phone and started the car, peeling away.

Klaus, tossed about in the back, shouted. “Hey! Dean, what--?”

“He’s not gone,” Dean growled. “Hookman. It didn’t work. He hurt Lori’s dad. Sam’s at the hospital.”

Fear lanced through Klaus’s features, and Ben asked quickly, “Is Sam okay?”

“Sam’s fine,” Dean said, after Klaus translated. “He’s keeping an eye on Lori and her dad, making sure he gets through the surgery.”

Klaus looked sick, and Ben hoped he didn’t puke in the back. Dean would never forgive him.

“H-He’s still out there?” Klaus asked. 

Ben reached out and took Klaus’s hand. Ever since they had discovered he could interact with the real world by using Klaus like a battery, Ben had been taking advantage. It only worked sometimes, though. Ben had to practice as much as Klaus.

Klaus gave him a grateful smile.

“We’ll get him, Klaus,” Dean reassured. “Sam and I are gonna make sure no one else gets hurt by this guy. Right?”

“Right. And I can help, too.”

Dean seemed apprehensive, but nodded. “Alright. But you stick close to me and Sam. This ghost is after you, too.”

“I will,” Klaus said. Ben knew he didn’t want to stray too far from the older hunters, anyway. Even if there was only a ten year gap between him and Dean, Klaus still looked up to the man and trusted him with his life.

Klaus also knew the risks, but Ben had a feeling that he was still trying to gain the Winchesters’ approval. So far this trip, Klaus hadn’t been as helpful as they both knew he could be. It didn’t bother Ben at all, as he was mostly just worried if his brother would come out the other side alive, but he knew--he  _ knew _ \--that Klaus was taking it hard, that their father’s ugly words kept circling through Klaus’s already scarred mind.

Klaus was pushing himself to be better, to prove himself to the older brothers. He was already doing so well, in Ben’s eyes, but Klaus wanted to be  _ better _ than good. He wanted to be the best, so that things wouldn’t fall apart. So that he would be  _ needed _ .

Ben knew the feeling. He just hoped that when the inevitable happened, that he wouldn’t be driven straight into the numbing effect of drugs.

They made it to the hospital in record time, Dean hardly parking before he barged into the facility. Klaus was steady at his side, long, knobby kneed legs keeping good time with the taller hunter. Ben floated at Klaus’s side, not even pretending to walk in their haste.

They met Sam outside of one of the rooms, the tallest man pacing in front of a large window. Past his broad shoulders, they could see Lori and her father, the man wrapped in bandages and asleep, heart monitor beeping at a steady rhythm. Lori looked shaken, her hand gripping her father’s tightly, and tear tracks staining her cheeks.

Police littered the hospital. They just about stopped the brothers from getting through, but Sam called out that it was alright, they were with him. Reluctantly, the police let them through, though not without suspicious glances.

“What happened?” Dean asked.

Sam shrugged helplessly. “We were just talking. Then Lori’s dad came out . . . and  _ he _ appeared.”

He explained what the man looked like, and beside Ben, Klaus gave a full body shiver.

“Yeah,” Klaus gripped his jacket over where the Hookman had attacked. The fabric was still torn, but Klaus didn’t have anything else. “Yeah, that’s him alright.”

Dean placed a hand on Klaus’s shoulder to steady him. Klaus took a deep sigh, and focused back to the present.

“What did the police say about it?” Dean asked.

“I told them that I had no idea who the man was, but that the reverend had been attacked,” Sam reported. “I didn’t mention that he was a ghost.”

Dean nodded. “Good. No need to frighten the public.”

Sam snorted, and Klaus grinned.

“So, how are we going to figure out who the big bad is?” Klaus asked. “I mean, it’s obviously the ghost, but who’s in charge?”

“Not the reverend,” Sam grunted. “Is there anything you can glean, Klaus?”

Klaus squared his shoulders and said, “I’d need to get closer.” Sam waved a hand for him to go inside, and Klaus marched into the room with purpose. Ben followed as a silent supporter. Behind them, Sam and Dean got into an argument over why Dean didn’t torch the bones.

As Klaus got closer to Lori, he softened his expression and put on a relaxed air. Lori predictably relaxed in his presence.

“You’re Sam’s little brother,” Lori said. “Right?”

Klaus visibly straightened, and Ben smirked. “That’s me alright,” Klaus smiled lazily, but his eyes were sharp. They locked on Lori’s chest, and Ben just about smacked his brother upside the head.

The only thing stopping him was the look Klaus’s face made when he did. Something flashed by, too quickly to really notice, but enough that Ben caught it. Ben knew all of Klaus’s ticks by this point. Klaus noticed something peculiar. Ben looked to Lori’s chest as well.

There wasn’t much to really note. Her breasts were big, and she wore a tight fitting shirt under a plaid overshirt. Her jacket was rumpled and wide open, one sleeve falling off her shoulder. In the center of her chest sat a silver chain necklace.

The necklace wasn’t much, just a simple chain holding a cross looking thing. Actually, the longer Ben looked at it, the more he thought it looked like an ankh, the Egyptian symbol of life. He narrowed his eyes at it. The top loop wasn’t closed all the way.

“So, Lori,” Klaus flicked a tassel into the air to get her attention again. “Where’d you get that fabulous necklace?”

“It, uh,” she mindlessly grabbed her necklace, fingering it between her thumb and forefinger. “It’s a church heirloom. My father gave it to me when I started college.”

Klaus nodded. “And is it real silver, dear?”

She blinked at him. “Yeah. It is. How did you know?”

“Last question: Was it originally something else?”

She furrowed her brows. “Um, I think so. Why do you ask?”

He waved a hand. “No reason! Thanks for letting me know!” He whipped back around and chasséd back to the others, leaving a confused Lori behind.

“I think it’s Lori controlling the Hookman,” Sam was saying when they came back. “She mentioned that her dad was seeing a married woman, and how she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you should be punished.”

“So the Hookman was feeding off her repressed emotions about why her close ones weren’t being punished for their wrongdoings,” Dean summed up. “But then, why didn’t salting and burning the bones work? I dowsed it, dude, I made  _ sure _ that those bones were thoroughly coated in salt and gasoline. I burned  _ everything  _ in there. So why is he still around?”

Klaus, the dramatic bitch that he was, said then, with a flourish, “I think I can help here!”

Sam and Dean turned to him expectantly, hope in their gazes. Klaus ate it up, and Ben rolled his eyes.

“Just tell them whatever you got, idiot.”

“Hush, Ben, I’m needed. I want to enjoy the feeling.” Klaus drew himself up, so that he was nearly the same height as Dean. 

Klaus had always been the lanky one in the family, all skinny frame and long legs like a colt. He used to totter around the house slouched over so the others weren’t having to look up to speak to him. The only one taller than him was Luther, who used his height to his advantage. 

Ben shook himself out of his memories when Klaus began speaking.

“It’s her necklace. It’s real silver.”

“Her necklace?”

It didn’t take long to put two and two together. Ben was rather impressed at Sam’s intelligence. He wondered what kind of conversations he could have with him. Hell, add Five to the mix and it would be a party.

Sam’s eyes widened. “Do you think the Hookman’s hook was melted down and made into a necklace?”

Klaus nodded. “I know it was. When I went in there and really got a good look at it, I felt a dangerous aura around it. It was similar to the aura I felt when Hookman appeared. She called it a church heirloom, which means it’s been around for a long time.”

Dean ran a hand down his face. “Okay. So. The hook became a necklace, which was passed down through the years, and now belongs to Lori. Matches with all the unexplainable murders from all those previous reverends.”

“Question is,” Sam went off of where Dean left off, “How are we gonna get it from her?”

“I mean, we could just tell her that a ghost is haunting her necklace,” Klaus shrugged. “If she needs proof that ghosts are real, I can summon Benny.”

“Just don’t give her a heart attack, please,” Ben said.

“Alright.” Dean nodded. “Alright. You talk to Lori with Sam. Get the necklace from her. I’ll go to the chapel and gather any remaining silver, just in case they put some of the hook in anything else.”

“We’ll meet you there,” Sam agreed, slapping his brother’s shoulder. Dean took off for the chapel.

“Right, okay, how are we gonna do this without sounding totally creepy?” Klaus asked.

“I’ll, uh . . .” Sam coughed. “I’ll talk to her first. Get her alone.”

“. . . Okay, already you’re sounding creepy.”

Sam frowned. “Just go into that closet over there.”

“But  _ Sam _ , I’ve been out of the closet since I was twelve.”

Sam didn’t get the joke, making a confused puppy face. Ben took pity. “Come on, Klaus. Let’s leave him to it.”

Ben dragged a snickering Klaus away and into the nearest closet that wasn’t locked. He propped the door open just enough that Sam would be able to tell it was them, without a passing doctor noticing anything strange.

A few moments later, Sam opened the door and led Lori inside. “Sam? What’s--”

She stopped when she saw Klaus already inside. He waved, giving her a pleasant smile.

“Why is your brother in here?” she asked, wary to go inside.

“I promise it’s not for anything weird,” Klaus started. Ben sighed. “Look, we just want the killings to stop.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh . . .” She shuffled into the closet, and Sam closed the door behind her. “How? Do you . . . I mean, I think I know what’s behind the killings. Do you guys also think it’s an avenging angel? One sent to punish those that deserve it?”

“Trust me, Lori, that guy isn’t an angel,” Sam stated firmly.

Lori bit her lip. “I just . . .” She sniffled, and Ben caught sight of a tear that she quickly wiped away. “I feel like all of this is my fault. I feel like someone was sent to punish them, because I felt like they should have been punished. Now I realize . . . I’m the one that should be punished.”

Klaus shook his head, reaching out a hand to place on her elbow. “No, Lori, that’s not true. Not at all. This guy . . . this ghost, he’s hurting people, and it’s evil.”

“Ghost? What do you mean--?”

Ben saw him shudder, then lock eyes with Sam. “Sam, we need to get her out of here.”

“What? Why?”

“ _ Sam _ ,” Klaus moved for the door. “Now!”

A silver hook embedded itself into the door, inches from Klaus’s face. He yelped and leaned away from it. Lori screamed.

“Vents,” Sam said. “Escape through the vents. I’ll keep him busy until you guys are in the clear.”

“I’ll help,” Ben said, drawing energy from Klaus. Klaus nodded and ran for the ventilation. Lori’s eyes were huge, staring right at Ben with fear. He gave her a small smile and a shy wave.

The door was hit again, a larger chunk taken out of the wood. The Hookman’s twisted smile peeked through. Sam lifted an iron pipe, his bag discarded on the floor, and jabbed it through the opening. The ghost disappeared with a howl.

They had maybe a few seconds--a minute tops--until it came back. Ben released the Horror.

Behind him, he heard a clanking and knew Klaus had managed to take off the vent grille. He heard Klaus urge Lori into the vents first, and Ben smiled with pride. Always one to think of others first.

“Keep guard over the vent,” Sam whispered to him. “The ghost can go anywhere he wants, but I’ll salt it anyway, so hopefully he won’t be able to get into there until they get out.”

Ben nodded along, setting up his position. Sam salted the vent opening once Klaus and Lori were through. “Lead her to the church!” Ben reminded.

“Yeah, yeah!” Klaus called back. Ben grinned.

The door shattered. The Hookman stepped through the remains, hook held aloft. Sam readied his pipe. Ben’s tentacled friend eagerly wiggled around.

Sam attacked first, pipe swinging towards the man’s face. The hook came up to block the strike, metal ringing against metal with a squeal. Sam grit his teeth, shifting his weight to bring it back around, only to have to dodge when the hook got too close.

When the Hookman moved near Ben, a tentacle whipped around and slapped the man back. Ben wasn’t used to defense, his usual job meant to be the tank, but he could get used to it.

Policemen thundered down the hall, guns raised. “Freeze!”

Ben winced. Oh boy.

“I said freeze!” One got closer.

“Stay back!” Sam called to them, too late. The Hookman didn’t spare them a glance. The one who got too close got sliced through the neck.

The man flopped on the ground, blood spurting from his grievous wound. 

Ben looked away. He hated the sight of blood. Or the sight of anything too gory, really. It kept him up at night, when he was younger and had to use the Horror until he dissociated. 

The Horror, though, became all the more enthusiastic at being out. He had to keep them from tearing into the rest of the policemen, glad that he was dead and couldn’t feel them squirm around and fight him against this. 

Funny how his control became almost second nature after death.

The policemen, spooked, started to fire. Sam ducked behind a shelf, crying out when a bullet grazed his arm. The bullets passed through the Hookman and Ben harmlessly.

“We need backup!” a police officer called into his radio.

Ben grabbed the Hookman with his tentacles, who were all too happy to try tearing into the ghost. The Hookman wasn’t affected in the least by the frenzied mess and disappeared.

He didn’t reappear.

Ben was really starting to hate how slippery this ghost was.

“We need to go after Klaus and Lori,” Sam gasped, holding a hand to his bleeding arm.

Ben faded, keeping Klaus’s energy in mind. Though Sam wouldn’t be able to see him anymore, he knew he was there.

“Wait!” a cop called. Sam did not wait. Sam grabbed his bag and ran out of the closet and down the way that Klaus and Lori had hopefully gone.

On their way, Ben spotted an open grate. Klaus was out of the vents. Ben prayed that Klaus could keep him and Lori alive until they got to them.

Klaus was running barefoot through a parking lot in broad daylight. Was this smart? Absolutely not. He had left his shoes in the car, which was now with Dean at the chapel, so he had to live with it. Didn’t mean his feet liked being burned alive.

Lori kept a steady pace at his side, despite being just a tad shorter than him. “Who is that? He’s the one hurting everyone, right?”

Klaus nodded, though she probably couldn’t tell. “Yep! Turns out you have a ghost attached to you.”

“Why? Why me?” she asked. “Is it because I’ve done wrong?”

“No, it’s your necklace,” Klaus explained through heavy breaths. Could they talk about this later, when they weren’t running for their lives? “It was originally a hook that helped in killing a lot of people.”

She paled, and Klaus hoped it was from the news and not from their run. They couldn’t stop. “So . . . I’ve been wearing a murder weapon?”

“Basically.”

“So, how do we get him to stop?”

“Uh, good question,” Klaus chuckled, hint of hysteria in his tone. “I’m pretty sure we gotta melt it down and destroy it?”

“How are we gonna manage  _ that _ ?”

Before Klaus could reply, a curb suddenly got in his way. His feet stumbled, the ground coming up to meet him. All he could think was “ _ oh crap _ ”.

There was a sound above him, reminiscent of one of Luther’s swings, and Lori screamed fearfully.

Klaus landed on his hands, wincing when they got all scraped. He whipped his head up, only to see black, black,  _ black _ , and a crooked, yellow grin.

The Hookman sliced his arm down in a flash, and Klaus barely had enough time to roll out of the way before it hit him square in the chest. The silver hook cracked the pavement where he had been.

He scrambled to his feet and grabbed Lori’s hand, tugging her away from a lethal shot the ghost took at her. She stumbled along after.

“Where’s Sam?”

“I don’t know,” Klaus responded, heart beating wildly. “Just get to the church! Whatever happens, you have to get that necklace to Dean!”

He assumed that she agreed with him, since she upped her pace, but he honestly didn’t have enough time to worry about her.

“Klaus!” The shout from Ben was unexpected, and it startled him.

Klaus looked behind, just in time to see silver streaking towards Lori’s back. Klaus acted on instinct. He whipped his arm out to knock the blow off the mark, making contact with something hard. There was a flash of blue.

Breathing heavily, Klaus flicked back and forth between the arm that he held in a vice-like grip and the yellowed smile that slowly fell. The Hookman jerked his arm, but Klaus held on like he was the strongest person in the world. Like he was Luther.

His arms glowed brightly.

He had no idea how he was doing this.

The ghost reached around with his other hand and wrapped his hand around Klaus’s throat. The familiar fear that came with hands reaching for him and unwanted touch caused the bright glow to dim, and Klaus wheezed for air as he was lifted from the ground.

The yellow grin returned.

There was a gunshot.

Klaus couldn’t breathe.

He fell to the ground unceremoniously.

And then Ben was there. Ben, who always made everything better. Ben, who never left his side, who was always there for him. Ben, who took his elbow and hefted him up.

“Klaus,” Ben breathed. “How did you hold him like that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you okay?”

“. . . I don’t know.”

A black car rolled up beside them, and the window rolled down. “Get in!” Dean shouted. Lori was already situated in the back.

The boys scurried in beside the woman while Sam took the front. Dean whipped the car around and left dust in their wake.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Ben asked.

Klaus shook his head, but he kept staring at his hands. Ben wasn’t sure if he had heard him.

The car shook, and Klaus and Lori had to brace themselves against the doors as the wheels left the road. They slammed back down with a shriek of tires.

“Dammit!” Dean jerked the wheel and they skidded across asphalt. They came to a stop when the right tires hit the curb.

The Hookman emerged from the shadows and stalked toward the car.

Dean shifted gears. “Not today, you son of a bitch.” He drove straight into the Hookman.

There was a crunch, and the ghost vanished. Dean kept driving.

They pulled up to the church and Dean leaned back. “Lori, necklace?”

She nodded shakily and handed it to him, and he lurched from the car and into the chapel.

“Come on,” Sam said, stepping out as well. “Stay close.”

Lori glued herself to Sam’s side, gripping his sleeve. Ben pursed his lips, hoping the gun wound from earlier was alright. Sam acted like nothing was wrong, because of course he did. Ben was with a bunch of idiots.

Sam herded the group inside, Ben taking the rear. Klaus shut the chapel doors behind them.

It was quiet. It set Ben’s ghost nerves on fire. The Horror shifted under his clothes, and They kept whispering things at him.

_ Kill. _

_ Blood. _

_ Meat. _

_ Klaus. _

_ Keep Klaus safe. _

_ Klaus. Klaus. Klaus. _

Unintentionally, Ben found his gaze lingering on his brother. Klaus was holding himself together, hands fisted into his black jacket. Idly, Ben thought that they should get him some new clothes, besides the dress. Klaus only had two pairs, and that was worrying to Ben. He knew his brother, knew that he liked to dress up and flaunt his stuff. Klaus needed more clothes.

Scraping along the pews drew his attention away. The Hookman sharpened his hook as he crept toward them, and upon closer inspection, Ben realized he was invisible to everyone but him and Klaus.

The hook retracted from the pews. The ghost surged forward, towards an unknowing Sam and Lori.

“Watch out!” Klaus shouted.

Sam didn’t hesitate. He shot out in front of him. The ghost reappeared at Lori’s shoulder.

“Behind you!”

Klaus tugged Lori away in the nick of time. Sam shot another round, destroying a really nice vase. The ghost vanished with a growl.

Before Sam could reload, the Hookman materialized in front of him and knocked it away. His hook flashed in an arc, but Ben was faster.

Lightning fast, the Horror was out and wrapped around the Hookman’s arm and chest. “I’m not letting you get away this time,” Ben said.

The Hookman struggled, but each time he tried to disappear on Ben, his tentacles would tighten further and keep him in place.

“Go Ben!” Klaus cheered.

And then, as though lit from within, a fire erupted that scorched through the Hookman. The Horror dropped him with a hiss, shaking themselves out from the phantom flames.

The hook melted first, the ghost staring at it like he couldn’t believe this could happen. His body was next, starting at the feet and rising until it reached his eyes. His eyes that glared darkly at Ben, promising revenge and violence and despair.

Ben stared right back.  _ You don’t get to hurt my family, asshole. See you in hell. _

A final burst of flames, and the Hookman was gone, leaving nothing but a pile of ashes on the floor. A tense silence followed, everyone looking to each other to make sure that that actually happened. Lori was ashen and held tightly to Sam, while Sam glanced around the room with sharp eyes.

Klaus was staring right at Ben, awe in his gaze.

The silence was only interrupted when Dean came crashing into the room from the basement, gun held aloft. “Everyone alright? It work?”

Sam gave him a thumbs up with his good arm, the other held tightly by Lori. Ben had the amusing thought that perhaps her white-knuckled grip was keeping him from bleeding out.

They needed a doctor.

Klaus laughed breathlessly and flopped down into a pew.

Later, in the Impala, Klaus leaned back into the soft leather and yawned. Having not slept the night before was taking a toll on him. He didn’t want to risk the nightmares, though.

Up front, Dean watched Sam and Lori through the rearview mirror. Sam was getting his bullet wound patched up and Lori was a silent comfort.

Klaus could see the romantic tension between the two, but he didn’t think it was a good match, personally. Dean, on the other hand, was all for it.

Speaking of Dean, the man had practically pushed Klaus into the back of the car to give the lovebirds time alone. Which, rude, Klaus could read a room, but then Dean had cleaned his hands and put on some bandages, and well . . . Klaus couldn’t really be mad after that.

He felt  _ safe _ . He felt  _ needed _ . Most of all, he was comforted by the fact that Dean had cared enough to take care of him post-fight.

It was nice.

It was weird.

He liked it.

It wasn't often that he could be doted on, after all. At least, by anyone other than Ben. It was considered a weakness at the Academy, to let others help you. Klaus craved the affection, though, even if it was wrong.

Just another addition to his long list of reasons why he was a screw up.

They had to talk to the police about what happened in the chapel, and the cops came to their own conclusions. Klaus thought it was funny that they assumed a new airborne drug had been released to create the illusion of a man disappearing and reappearing. They regaled Sam and Dean as heroes, but told them to leave as soon as possible, please and thank you.

Some people, really. So ungrateful.

But, as it was, Klaus was glad that they didn’t chalk it up to Sam, Dean, and him being mass murderers or something. That would really put a downer on this whole thing.

Klaus was just about to sink into dreamland when the passenger door squealed open. He sat up fully and rubbed his eyes as Sam sat in his usual place. The man said nothing, but based on the tension in his jaw, he wasn’t too happy about what he was doing.

“We could stay,” Dean said casually. “Hang out for another week.”

Sam just shook his head, staring out the window and keeping his eyes away from the mirror.

Dean sighed, turned the engine over, and put Iowa far behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K, so, the last half of this chapter was off script, so . . . if it's absolutely terrible, don't be afraid to tell me cuz I ain't good at action even with a script to follow lol


	25. Who the Hell Made You the Boss?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus gets some new clothes. Someone died from strange circumstances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, I heard that there are people that are dying of strokes that get COVID-19??? My dudes, stay safe!
> 
> Big thanks to Sweets_Addy for helping me with this chapter! Love ya babe <3

After driving aimlessly for several hours, Dean finally said that they needed to stop at the nearest town so he could fix up Baby, and Ben demanded that Klaus shop for more clothes. Sam volunteered to go with Klaus and leave Dean to it (“Trust me,” he said to Klaus as they were dropped off at the nearest Goodwill. “It’s best to leave him be when he fixes the Impala. He likes to think when making her better.”).

So, here they were, inside a Goodwill and looking through hand-me-downs, and Klaus was loving the different outfits. The mix and match was his favorite part. Just what could he get away with before Sam finally said “no”?

Apparently a lot. Sam gave him free reign, saying “have fun” and sitting down in a chair to read the paper. Ben snickered, saying that Klaus would go wild, and he was absolutely correct. He wanted Sam to regret those words.

So far, though, each time he had presented himself in the most garish outfit he could find (the worst being a bright, neon green flannel shirt with purple, shiny skin-tight pants), Sam had just given him a weak smile and a thumbs up. He really wasn’t kidding.

Klaus stepped out of the changing room in a summer skirt and a pale yellow tank top that he actually kind of liked, wondering what Sam would say to it.

He did a little twirl in front of the man. “What do you think?”

Sam glanced up from the paper and smiled genuinely. “Looks good on you. The skirt really looks nice with your long legs.”

Klaus preened under the compliment, and he dramatically placed his hands over his cheeks. “Why thank you, darling, you really are the sweetest!”

Sam’s smile fell, and he put the paper aside. His eyes narrowed on something on Klaus, and Klaus titled his head. “Everything alright, Sam?”

“What is that?” Sam asked, pointing to Klaus’s arm. Klaus looked down at himself, but didn’t see anything wrong.

“The tattoo,” Ben said. “I think he’s asking about our tattoo.”

“Oh, this?” Klaus showed him more fully the umbrella carved into his wrist in black ink. “It’s a tattoo. We all have one. Well, except for Vanya. It was Reggie’s way of claiming us, though he said it was to help identify us to the public.” Klaus rolled his eyes.

Sam straightened in his seat, jaw clenched and eyes burning through Klaus’s wrist. 

Klaus shifted uncomfortably. “Um . . .”

“Who does that to their kid?” Sam interrupted. He turned his glare to Klaus, and the teen couldn’t help but wince at the intensity directed at him. Sam softened his gaze. “Sorry. It’s just . . . a parent shouldn’t force a tattoo on their child, especially when underage. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s illegal and considered child abuse.”

“Yeah, well,” Klaus gripped his wrist and turned half his body away to shield it from view. “Welcome to my life. Reginald Hargreeves was an abusive bastard who taught his children to hate one another and kept them in line with fear and an iron fist.”

The anger surged again, but Sam took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. “Did you try all the outfits you wanted to?” he asked kindly. Klaus smiled, glad the man had changed the subject. 

Ben looked on with a bittersweet smile.

“There was one more, something that might look more ‘normal’ for a boy to wear,” Klaus stated. “That way you guys won’t be given a hard time out in public.”

“Klaus, you should wear whatever you want,” Sam said, sad puppy eyes taking over. Klaus shook his head.

“You’d be surprised by what people can do when someone is outside the box.”

He turned about, and just before he left, he shot behind him, “Besides, I think it’s a really sexy looking outfit.”

He left Sam looking confused while he went to change. He traded the skirt and tank top for a pair of tight, black skinny jeans with lace sides and hearts on the back pockets. The shirt was a pink crop top that would look good with the jacket Bobby had gotten him for Christmas. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he gave himself a wink and a little kiss. He looked  _ hot _ .

“It’s a good look for you,” Ben said. “Definitely one of your more tamer outfits.”

Klaus beamed. “Danke! Won’t turn as many heads, but the jeans do make my ass look good.”

“You mean that flat-as-a-board rump you’ve got?”

Klaus shoved at Ben, the ghost snickering as he fell through the cheap door. He took a moment to admire himself in the mirror for a moment longer, then stripped back down to put on his old clothes. He had two new outfits that fit within their budget. He could work with this.

He exited the dressing room and headed back to Sam with the outfits he had. As he was leaving, a large man with a beard stopped him with a frown. Ben tensed at his side.

“Hey, son, you tryin’ on girly things?”

Klaus grinned. “Nope!” And he walked away before the man could say more. Girl, boy, it didn’t matter. Clothes were clothes. Society demanded what was gender specific.

He proudly showed off his bundle to Sam. “All good to go!”

Sam raised a brow with an amused smirk. “That all? You must have shown me a good twenty to thirty outfits.”

Klaus shrugged. “Yeah, but these were the only ones I actually liked.”

Sam laughed and stood up from his seat. “Well, while you were trying on everything in the store, I found a possible case.”

“Didn’t we just get off of one?” Klaus asked, though he was interested all the same.

“We did,” Sam agreed. “But this is kind of our job. Besides, if we don’t help, who will?”

Klaus hummed and skipped along to Sam’s long strides (man was  _ huge _ . Totally unfair). “You make an excellent point. I suppose there’s never a dull day with you, huh?”

“Well, we do have some free time occasionally. But . . .”

Klaus pursed his lips. “Does the need to read through every paper you get and look through things online have to do with your dad? Are you looking for any evidence that he’s nearby?”

Sam sighed heavily, shoulders drooping. Nailed it in one. The whole drive here, Sam had been typing away at his computer, searching through morgue databases. When Klaus had asked, Sam had just said it was a distraction. “There’s nothing,” he said. “No John Doe in nearby morgues, no news about a strange man saving lives, not even a mention of a seedy guy in a motel.”

“Sounds like your dad doesn’t wanna be found,” Klaus said.

“That’s what Dean’s been saying.” Sam helped Klaus bag the clothes and pay for it, ignoring the strange looks. He headed for the door. “I know this is really affecting him the most. He may never say it, but he needs Dad. This is the longest he’s been without him, and he’s got a lot more on his plate than ever before. It’s hurting him.”

Klaus shrugged and ran a hand through his curls. “Well, I may not be in a place to say this, but Dean should let you, me, and Ben carry some of that weight and not rely on your dad so much. Then again, I don’t know what it’s like to have a healthy relationship with a dad, so . . .”

Sam smirked a small smile. “I wish he would, but he never will. Dean thinks it’s his job to hold everything up on his shoulders, whether it be his problems or mine, too. Hell, he’s probably wanting to shoulder yours and Ben’s as well.”

“So you want to find your dad so Dean can stay mentally healthy?”

Sam nodded. “Or, well, as healthy as he can get. That, and I want to find Dad for my own reasons, too.” His face took on a darker look. “Dad’s hunting the thing that killed Mom and Jess. I have to help him get revenge.”

Klaus frowned. “But . . . if it killed them, what’s to say it won’t kill you, too?”

“As if I’d let something like that get the best of me.”

“Well,  _ yeah _ , but hypothetically, who’s to say that whatever-it-is isn’t super powerful, and could do you and your dad in easily?”

Sam stayed silent, but that was all the answer Klaus needed. Sam didn’t care if he lived or died while hunting this thing. Klaus bit his lip.

“You have to tell him that he matters. If he dies, it would matter,” Ben said.

Klaus nodded, thinking back to Ben’s funeral. Klaus may not completely understand how much it hurt to lose someone, but he  _ did _ mourn Ben. He still does, whenever he can’t feel his warmth or when Ben says he misses feeling things or smelling things. Ben was an observer in a world that didn’t know he still existed. And it hurt, it really did, when Ben looked so  _ sad _ when he missed something or someone.

So, Klaus gave Ben’s hand a small squeeze, then turned to the man.

“Sam,” Klaus said softly. “Do you think that your life doesn’t matter?”

Sam startled and turned back to Klaus. They came to a stop. Klaus wasn’t sure what expression Sam had on his face, but he wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Because you do matter, Sam,” Klaus reassured. “Trust me, I--”

“If I die avenging Jess, my life would at least amount to something.”

Klaus recoiled from the words, not expecting the harsh, blunt reply. The phrase was reminiscent of some of the things that Reginald used to say to him, and Klaus was sucked into a whirlwind of memories that he never wanted to touch again.

_ Keep a lookout, Number Four. As useless as you are, perhaps you can sacrifice yourself to save at least one of your teammates. _

_ You are my greatest disappointment, Four. If only you could be of some use and act as a shield to the others. _

_ Number Four, your life is useless and meaningless. Why not protect the others and rid us of such worthless time and effort? _

_ It would be inconsequential if I were to lose you, Number Four. _

_ Pointless. _

_ Useless. _

_ Meaningless. _

_ Worthless. _

_ Unimportant. _

Klaus went quiet, not looking Sam’s way. “That’s not true . . .” Klaus whispered. He wasn’t sure who he was talking to. “That’s . . . that isn’t true.”

A hand on his shoulder startled him, and he looked up into worried hazel eyes. “Klaus?”

He shook his head and removed Sam’s hand from his shoulder. “You are worth more than that,” he bit out. He was more than a shield. He was a person. Right? 

He shoved all those memories and feelings deep,  _ deep _ down and locked them away. He was not going to deal with this today.

“Let’s just get back to the motel,” he said, marching ahead.

Sam followed behind, confused and concerned. Ben walked close beside Klaus, reminding him that he was still there. Ben would never leave him.

Dean chuckled as he got back to the motel, waving around a wad of cash. Sammy, expectedly, rolled his eyes at him as he closed the door. Klaus tilted his head from where he sat on one of the beds.

“Did you seriously hustle at a bar?” Sam asked. Klaus’s eyes widened.

“What? It’s what we were raised to do,” Dean huffed. “Hunting doesn’t really  _ pay _ . Gotta get cash somehow. Credit card scams can only get you so far.”

Ben materialized next to Klaus. “Hunting doesn’t pay? So it’s not a real job?”

Dean shrugged and shook his head. “It’s not like the government can consider it a real thing. They don’t believe in monsters. Hunters gotta make a living on their own. It’s why Bobby has a junkyard.”

“Huh,” Klaus said. “I honestly thought it was because he wanted the aesthetic.”

Ben smacked his arm.

“Rude.”

“So what did you get while you were out?” Dean sagged into the opposite bed, pocketing the bills. Klaus slumped further into the bed, where usually he would be eager to talk about his fashion.

“Klaus got two new outfits,” Ben filled in. “Sam found a hunt.”

“And Klaus is currently not speaking to me,” Sam pouted.

Klaus folded his arms and turned to glare at the wall. Dean frowned. “Why?”

Before Sam could open his mouth to answer, Ben clenched his jaw and shook his head. A clear signal.  _ Not with Klaus here _ . He placed a hand on Klaus’s knee. “Why don’t you change into one of your new outfits? I’m sure Dean wants to see them.”

Klaus bit his lip.

“Come on, it’s been forever since we’ve done a fashion show.”

Klaus rolled his eyes, but smiled wide. “ _ Fine _ . So bossy.”

Ben winked.

As soon as Klaus left to get changed, Ben turned to the Winchesters. “As you already know, our father was an abusive asshole. Sam discovered the tattoo on Klaus’s wrist that all of us share, except for Vanya. That triggered a response that already had him fragile. Please don’t push him any further today.” Ben’s eyes flicked to Sam at the last sentence, and Dean had to wonder just what happened between him and Sam to make Klaus so upset. 

Then the words registered and Dean sat up straight. “Wait, what? Tattoo?”

Ben nodded, lifting his jacket sleeve to show an umbrella inked into his wrist. “It was a mark of recognition, that we are members of the Umbrella Academy.”

“How old?” Dean asked, voice deceptively calm. His hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists, teeth gritted and muscles tensed.

“. . . We were twelve or thirteen, I think. Kind of hard to keep track of time when you’re dead,” Ben shrugged.

“Twelve--” Dean fumed.

Ben held up a hand. “Don’t misunderstand. When we were twelve, we started crime fighting. We thought we were the definition of power and strength. We were  _ adults,  _ in our minds. Klaus started heavy drugs. Luther and Allison were talking about getting married. Five wanted to go to college. Diego visited crime scenes.”

At Ben’s pause, Dean finally met his gaze. His eyes were dark, blank. 

“We didn’t know  _ anything _ . After Five disappeared, we had a huge wake up call. I don’t know about the others, but Klaus’s anxiety was so bad you could practically taste it. My depression worsened until . . .” He trailed off, but gestured to himself. “You get the picture. We were suddenly  _ human _ . We could be hurt. We could  _ die _ . And then I died, and everyone just . . .”

He didn’t finish. Instead he took a breath and said with a sigh, “So, when Dad forced us to get tattoos, we were excited. We were part of a club. We  _ wanted  _ that. Or, at least, we thought we did.”

“He shouldn’t have forced that on you,” Dean grunted. “You were  _ kids _ .”

“I know,” Ben agreed, voice soft. “I know.”

Dean was still upset by all of this information, but Klaus returned before he could say more.

“What do you think?” Klaus winked, showing off his crop top and jeans.

Dean hesitated, years of his father’s words shooting to the surface. He coughed and rubbed his neck. “Good! It’s good. The pink is nice.”

“Right?” Klaus beamed. “I thought that it was a nice compliment to my paleness.” He snorted. “The lace on the jeans was Ben’s idea.”

Ben smirked. “Only because I knew you’d want to show off.”

“Says the one that had earlier commented that I had ‘a flat rump’.”

“Hey, just because you don’t have curves doesn’t mean you can’t work it.”

Klaus struck a pose. “Exactly, darling.”

The two laughed, and Dean relaxed. Despite all that they had gone through, they had each other, and they had him and Sam, and they were happy. That’s all that really mattered now.

He might still want to kill Reginald Hargreeves, but he could settle for raising the man’s kids in his place.

“Hey, I didn’t get to see that one in the store,” Sam commented.

Klaus tensed, then forcibly relaxed again and put on a fake air of normalcy. “Why, that’s merely because we simply  _ had _ to go. Couldn’t be late for my dramas, after all.” He gestured to the TV.

Dean threw Sam a Look, but Sam ignored it. He looked so damn  _ sad _ , but there was a hint of hope there, too. Klaus was at least talking to him again.

“Hey, Sam?” Ben asked. Sam snapped his gaze to the ghost. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” He jerked his head towards the bathroom. Sam nodded, then stood to follow the ghost into the small room, leaving Klaus and Dean alone.

Ben closed the bathroom door quietly behind them, and Sam waited for him to start. Ben hunched his shoulders, and Sam instinctively did the same.

“Listen,” Ben said, whirling around. “I don’t want you talking like that about yourself ever again, got me?”

“What?”

“The whole ‘My life is worthless except when I’m about to sacrifice myself for others’ spiel. It’s not healthy, it’s not  _ right _ , and it hurts Klaus the most when you say it.”

Sam felt as though he'd been struck. “Is that why he’s upset with me?”

“Yes!” Ben threw his hands in the air. “Dad used to say crap like that to him all the time. That he was useless and didn’t matter.”

Sam clenched his teeth. “It’s not true about him.”  _ But . . . _

Ben rolled his eyes. “Oh no. I’ve been with Klaus long enough to know  _ that face _ . You think you don’t matter? That no one would care if you were gone? Well, take a good, long look at us. We’re your family. Dean, the big brother who cares so much that he would literally  _ die _ for you. Klaus, the annoying little brother that wears his heart on his sleeve and trusts with his whole being. And me, the one who  _ will _ punch you in the face if you don’t take me seriously about this. You’re loved, you dumb bitch. Accept it.”

The two stared at each other in silence. The  _ drip drip drip _ of the leaky faucet was loud between them. Sam was gobsmacked. Ben was seething. Sam wasn’t sure whether he was angry or trying to tell him he loved him. “. . . What?”

Ben blinked. “I didn’t break you, did I?”

Shaking his head, Sam focused back in. “No, no. It’s, uh . . . I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“I’ll make sure to tell you more often, then.”

Sam scoffed, something warm curling in his chest. “Thank you, Ben. That . . . that would be really nice.”

When the two returned from their talk, Klaus was already relaxed on the bed and commenting on the show that was on, kicking his feet like a little kid. Dean had a content smile as he listened, but he perked up when Sam came back in.

“Hey. You good?”

Sam smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I just needed a reminder.” He turned to Klaus, and with his trademark puppy eyes, he said, “I’m sorry for what I said, Klaus.”

Klaus raised a brow. “Oh? Do tell.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You’re right, he totally is the annoying little brother.” Ben snickered at his side.

“Hey!”

“I mean it, though,” Sam went on. “The apology. It was insensitive of me to say those words, and I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Klaus hummed and stood up from the bed, coming over to stand in front of Sam with his arms crossed. Dean thought it was pretty funny that Sam had Klaus by several inches, and yet he looked cowed in the teen’s presence. “And?” Klaus asked.

“What?”

“ _ And _ ?” Klaus lengthened the word. “What else?”

“And . . .” Sam floundered. Ben elbowed his side, but Sam couldn’t read the ghost like he could Dean, and Ben just huffed a short laugh.

“He wants an apology for yourself,” Ben whispered, though it wasn’t really quiet. Klaus waited expectantly.

“I’m . . . sorry that I said that about myself?” Sam said, though it sounded more like a question.

Dean narrowed his eyes.

Klaus nodded, sighed, then said, “I suppose that’s a good start. Glad that Benny could knock some sense into you.” He patted Sam’s shoulder.

“Well, now that the chick flick moment is over,” Dean groaned, getting to his feet. “I heard there was a hunt?”

Sam lit up, pulling a newspaper from his back pocket. “So, get this. A construction worker, late twenties, dies in a hole in the ground. Coroner says he died of Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease. Otherwise known as Mad Cow Disease.”

“Like on Oprah?” Dean asked.

“You watch Oprah?” Sam drew his brows together.

Dean was thankfully saved from having to answer when Ben said, “Wait, did he show any signs beforehand? You don’t just suddenly die from this disease. It can take months, hell,  _ years _ for it to kill someone. He would have caught wind of it long before he died.”

“That’s the thing,” Sam said, getting back on track. Dean let out a breath. “He didn’t show signs of it before, and it was as if his brain liquified out of his ears and eyes. Like a month of illness had been compressed into seconds.”

“Ick,” Klaus stuck out his tongue. “Sounds like a really nasty way to go.”

“Where was he found?” Dean jutted out his chin.

“They wouldn’t say in the article, but it says who found him. His partner, a guy named Travis Weaver.”

Klaus hummed. “Sounds like a fun adventure!”

Dean grunted. “Maybe. But it might not be a ghost.”

Klaus raised a brow at him. “Uh, okay?”

“So,” Dean said. “You aren’t coming.”

“ _ What _ ?”

“You heard me,” Dean folded his arms. “You just about got killed last hunt, and this thing might not even be your specialty.”

“How am I supposed to learn if you don’t give me a chance?”

“Because, we want to ease you into this. No need to drop you headfirst into deep water.”

Sam coughed, looking uncomfortable, but Dean ignored him. Klaus glared daggers at him.

“You aren’t my dad, and I am not your responsibility.  _ I’m coming _ .”

The dangerous tone in Klaus’s voice made Dean hesitate.

“Dean, knock it off,” Ben said. “You’re acting like Luther. It will only egg him on. Besides, I think he’s proven himself plenty to you guys. He should come along.”

He had two determined sixteen year olds glaring him down, but he was just as stubborn, and no meant  _ no.  _ Ben’s words just solidified his resolve.

“You aren’t coming along and that’s that. Don’t make me kick your ass.”

Klaus’s eyes were filled with fire, but Dean wasn’t backing down. The teen must have realized that, because he pouted and huffed, whipping around to stalk to the bathroom, Ben trailing behind him. Dean didn’t flinch when the door slammed shut. 

Sam whistled. “Didn’t tell me you had a dad voice.”

“What?” Dean turned on his brother, eyes wide. “I don’t have a--I  _ don’t _ have a dad voice!”

Sam snorted. “Oh, really? Sounded like it to me.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Just get your crap. We’re heading out to look into Travis.”

As they were getting their things together, Dean said, “Just what was it you said that had Klaus so upset?”

Sam shook his head and looked at his shoes. Dean didn’t like how small it made his brother seem. “Nothing . . .”

“It’s not nothing. He asked you to apologize.  _ To yourself _ .”

Sam bit his lip. “Drop it, Dean.” 

Dean was used to his brother biting back when he didn’t want to answer, but the tiredness in Sam’s voice caught him off guard. “Sammy?”

“It’s Sam,” Sam instantly said. Dean quirked a brow. Sam sighed. “Look, it’s not a big deal anymore. I said something I shouldn’t have, and Klaus got upset. I apologized. It’s in the past. Leave it.”

Dean raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. No need to get all bitchy at me. I was just . . .”  _ Concerned. Worried. Wondering what the hell was wrong that had Klaus not speaking to him for several hours. _

“I’m fine, Dean,” Sam smiled that specific smile he used when he was being genuine, and Dean found himself believing him.

“Alright. You tell me if that changes?”

“Of course.”

Dean nodded and threw the duffle bag over his shoulder. “Let's get going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hated everything about this chapter. I especially hated myself when writing it. It just . . . didn't sound right? If that makes sense. There was too much telling rather than showing (which I am in a bad habit of, yikes). I edited, but . . . uh . . . yeah, I didn't like it either way. Oh well.  
> We're starting the episode Bugs! Terrible episode, so I will be changing things around. A lot. Yay.


	26. There's an Old Man Sitting on a Throne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bugs, bugs, bugs. Matt is trying his best. Klaus loses it and now has blackmail material.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for bugs. Nothing explicit yet, but a man does get eaten alive by beetles (more implied than seen). If that makes you uncomfortable, skip past Klaus's retelling of his exchange with Dustin in the hole. Begins with "'He said he was . . ." and ends with "Sam and Dean both screwed up their faces . . ." Lemme know if you guys need a more obvious cut off and I can supply.

They waited in the bathroom until the sound of the Impala was in the distance. Klaus sighed as he exited the small room. He grinned devilishly, spotting Sam’s laptop still open on the small table.

“They make it too easy.” He skipped over to the laptop and pulled open a new search window. “So, Benny, how do we find our mystery murder spot?”

Ben settled on top of the table, legs crossed under him and mirth dancing in brown orbs. “I’d look for construction spots, first. Sam said he was a worker on one of the sights.”

Klaus nodded. “Right. And it would have to be a big one, because accidents happen on freeways and stuff all the time.” He typed in ‘recent construction projects Oklahoma’. Three major ones popped up. Two were businesses, and the last was an ad for an HOA type neighborhood. The people in the picture looked happy, with the neighborhood logo beneath the title  _ Oasis Plains _ .

“What secrets does your land hold?” Klaus sang. Ben rolled his eyes.

He typed in the addresses of the three into separate tabs, and his brows rose. “Interesting. Seems like someone caught a clip of the police arriving at the neighborhood. Tsk tsk.”

“You did  _ not _ just literally say ‘tsk tsk’ out loud.”

“Oh shut up.”

Klaus loaded the video. At first, all they could see was a kid filming a bunch of bugs. Gross. Once the sirens began, the focus panned up to the street.

“There. At the end of the road. They stop there.”

“Looks like we found our spot, Benji.”

Pretending to be the nephews of “Uncle Dusty” in front of Travis was surprisingly easy. The fact that the man didn’t even question them beyond wondering why Dustin never talked about them was kind of concerning. Maybe people were just very trustworthy in Oklahoma. Klaus would fit in.

Well, except for his fashion sense. And his loud behavior. And the ghosts . . .

Besides the point. Anyway, Travis wasn’t able to give them much else other than what the paper said, but he did direct them to the scene. Apparently, Travis had only been away from Dustin for a couple of minutes, having gone for some rope because Dustin’s ankle broke when he fell into a hole that had opened up suddenly. Dustin screamed for help, and Travis was trying to keep him calm, but Dustin was dead by the time Travis returned with the rope.

The construction sight was roped off with caution tape. The hole that Dustin had fallen into was obvious, but not very big. It seemed it was specifically meant to snag one person. It was very deep, though. Deeper than Sam was tall.

“Wanna flip a coin?” Dean asked.

“No,” Sam said.

“What, are you scared?” Dean goaded.

“I’m  _ not _ scared.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Dean mocked. “We’ll just flip to see who goes in.”

Dean took out a coin, tossed it in the air, and Sam caught it on the way down.

“I’m going in.”

Dean held up his hands. “Alright.” He smirked. Sam clenched his jaw.

He quickly tied a rope around his waist while Dean kept a lookout in case someone came over to ask what they were doing. He double and triple knotted the rope, just in case, then shimmied his way into the hole.

It was dark and full of roots. The dirt shifted as Sam settled at the bottom. His flashlight didn’t make things much better, but he was able to see the giant dark spot that was once Dustin. He grimaced.

Sam knelt beside the dark spot, fingers trailing over the muddied dirt. He searched for signs of any and all monsters that he could think of, but all he could find was a small, dead, black beetle. No tunnels, no tracks. No evidence of any other living creature down there. No evidence of anything dead, either.

Pursing his lips, he tugged on the rope and lifted himself back out of the hole. Dean, hands on hips, looked at him expectantly. Sam shook his head.

“Nothing except a black beetle. Not even ectoplasm or something.”

Dean frowned. “What are you thinking it might be?”

Sam shrugged helplessly. “No idea.”

“Let me see the beetle?”

Sam nodded and handed over the dead bug, watching Dean closely as he looked it over. Dean didn’t comment, other than making a face.

“Nasty. Bugs are so gross.”

Sam scoffed.

“Well, can’t agree more with that,” a voice behind Sam said. One that he  _ knew _ should  _ not _ be here.

He whipped around, Klaus standing there with a disgusted face and arms crossed over his pink crop top. When he caught Sam staring, he smirked. “What? You think I don’t know how to hotwire a car?”

“I thought I told you  _ explicitly _ that you were supposed to stay in the motel,” Dean growled.

Klaus rolled his eyes. “And I told  _ you _ that you aren’t my dad.”

“Ben?” Sam asked before Dean blew a gasket.

Klaus jerked a thumb behind him. “He’s the one who drove. I don’t know how to, and technically legally can’t due to drugs and, you know,  _ hallucinations _ .”

Sam nodded. Made sense. Maybe they could teach him how to someday soon.

“Why are you here?” Dean asked.

“I can help!”

“Or get killed.”

Klaus groaned. “Look, I can talk to the dead guys. Give you a better head start.”

Dean hesitated on that. They didn’t really have much to go on at the moment, but a head start would be nice. Sam waited with baited breath.

This could either go smoothly or terribly.

“. . . Fine. You help this  _ one time _ .”

Klaus fist bumped the air. Sam let out a sigh. Crisis averted.

“But,” Dean held up a finger. “You’re going back to the motel after, right?”

“Maybe.”

“You--”

“Thanks, Klaus,” Sam said sincerely. “We  _ could  _ use the help.” He shot a look at Dean.  _ Drop it _ .

Dean pursed his lips and glared. He could drop it, but he wouldn’t be happy about it. Sam brushed off the daggers thrown his way and gestured to the hole they stood next to. “Be my guest.”

“Gladly,” Smug, Klaus marched up beside them. He stuck his tongue out at Dean, and Sam knew his older brother was this close to throwing punches.

The closer he got, the more serious he became. Klaus stopped right before the edge and knelt down. “Hello?” he called.

He tilted his head to the side, listening. “It’s alright. I’m Klaus. Are you Dustin?”

Sam inched closer, wondering if he’d be able to see the ghost. Klaus subtly held up a hand, stopping him.

“Hi, Dustin. Do you know what happened to you?” Klaus asked calmly. He winced and Sam tensed. “Please don’t yell. I can hear you just fine.”

The conversation went on like that, one sided and Klaus remaining calm throughout. Well, at least he appeared to be. Sam could see the small trembles that overtook his thin frame, sweat beading along his brow. It wasn’t until near the end of the conversation they got anything worth their time.

“Beetles? What kind?” Klaus asked. “I see. How many?” He paused, then looked back to Sam and Dean. “That’s . . . odd.” He turned back to the hole. “Thank you, Dustin. You can rest now.”

He waved his hand and it flashed blue. Klaus stood in one swift motion, shaking like a leaf and eyes shadowed. At least his nose wasn’t bleeding like it had all the other times he had banished a ghost.

Sam beamed. “You’re getting better at that.”

Klaus returned the smile, even if it was slight and fragile. “Thanks. All this practice I’m getting really helps.”

“What did he say?” Dean asked.

“He said he was eaten by beetles,” Klaus said. “Thousands of them. They just . . . appeared. He looked really gruesome, too.” The teen sighed and leaned against the tree beside the hole.

“I only found one beetle,” Sam said. “Where were the rest?”

Klaus snorted. “Well, according to Dustin, they were all inside of him.”

Sam and Dean both screwed up their faces in disgust. “Like I said. Nasty.” Dean shivered.

Klaus sat forward in the Impala when he saw the sign. Ben nudged him.

“You all need to eat. You should go!”

“Hey, look,” Klaus pointed. “A barbeque! Bet it would be nice to take a moment to relax, right?”

Dean hummed. “The locals might know more. I say we check it out.”

They pulled up beside the house, and Klaus furrowed his brows as he vaguely remembered the property. “Have we been here before? I swear I’ve seen this place.”

“Me too . . .” Ben blinked. “Oh! The video from earlier!”

“The bug kid?”

“The bug kid!”

Sam looked at him funny, but Klaus waved his hand. Sam shrugged.

“You know, growing up in a place like this would freak me out,” Dean said.

“Why?” Sam asked.

“The manicured lawns,” Dean gestured to said lawns. “The how-was-your-day-honey? I’d blow my brains out.”

“There’s nothing wrong with normal,” Sam scoffed.

“Depends on the normal,” Klaus said. “The normal that Dean’s referring to? Yeah, that sounds pretty nice. Never gonna happen for us, though.”

Sam gave Klaus a pitying look. “I’m sure you can get there. Someday.”

Klaus smiled bitterly at his tennis shoes. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“I’d take our family over normal any day,” Dean said sincerely. Klaus looked up, and the man gave him a wink. His heart soared.

Sam knocked on the front door, and they were greeted by an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair. He was as white as a Caucasian person could be, and the grey suit he wore didn’t make his skin look any darker. Klaus could practically smell the white privilege in the air.

“Is this the barbeque?” Dean asked.

“Yep. Not the best weather, but . . .” the man huffed and held out his hand. “I’m Larry Pike, the developer here. And you are?”

Dean shook the man’s hand while Klaus took a look behind Larry. The house was nice. A little too clean, though.

“Dean. This is Sam,” Dean introduced. “And this kid is Klaus.” Dean ruffled Klaus’s hair, and the teen squawked.

“Sam, Dean, Klaus,” Larry nodded to each in turn. His eyes lingered on Klaus for a moment, narrowing briefly before staying on Dean. “Good to meet you. So are you interested in Oasis Plains?”

“Yes sir,” Dean said.

“Let me just say,” Larry pressed his hands together, false sincerity in his gaze. “We accept homeowners of any race, religion, color, or . . . sexual orientation.”

Klaus’s jaw dropped. No way. No freaking way.

“We’re happy to accept a gay family into the community. I’m sure your son will get along great with the local teenagers.”

“We’re brothers,” Dean aggressively denied, pointing at the three of them. Sam chuckled, but Klaus . . .

Klaus couldn’t help it. He guffawed at the insinuation. “That’s golden! Blackmail privileges!”

Dean cuffed the back of his head, but he was too giggly to care.

“Our father is getting on in years,” Sam explained while Dean wrangled Klaus. “We just wanted to find a place for him.”

“Great! Great. Seniors are welcomed too.” Larry clapped his hands. “Come on in.”

Dean gave Klaus a noogie, and Klaus whined in protest. Ben was no help, just laughing at Klaus’s misfortune. Sam stepped into the house with a roll of the eyes.

“We don’t talk about this,” Dean said, though his lips wavered into a smile. Klaus just flipped him off.

They followed Larry through the house, Klaus in the back and Dean up front. Sam made comments here and there on the decor, but Klaus was bored. It was the usual modern look that all the wealthy white people had. Or, at least, the look that Klaus assumed they had. It reminded him of one of his exes/dealers, the man being all for the “look”, whatever it was.

Larry showed them to the backyard, and Klaus’s stomach growled at all the lovely smells that assaulted his nose. Ben snickered.

“I doubt the rest of the conversation is worth our time. Let's grab some free food,” Ben said.

Klaus skipped away from the others and headed straight for the food table. He grabbed two plates and started stuffing them with anything that looked good, Ben chiming in when he wanted something specific.

As he was picking out a spot to sit, he saw a chuckling teen looking at one of the tables. Klaus came up beside him, glancing the same way. “Whatcha lookin’ at?” he asked.

The teen startled, nearly knocking Klaus’s plates to the ground. Klaus pulled them away with a yelp. “Easy!”

“Sorry,” the teen placed a hand on his chest. “You startled me.”

Sam appeared, then, holding a tarantula. Klaus, used to creepy crawlies from his days in the mausoleum, scrunched his nose in displeasure. Just because he was used to them didn’t mean he liked them.

“This yours?” Sam asked, holding the bug out to the teen.

“You gonna tell my dad?” the teen asked.

“I don’t know. Who’s your dad?”

The teen scoffed. “Oh, well. Larry usually skips me in the family introductions.”

“Ouch,” Sam said. “First name basis with the old man sounds pretty grim.”

“Totally understand where you’re coming from,” Klaus snorted. “My old man considered me his disappointment, too.”

The teen grinned at him, and Klaus’s heart did a little flip-flop. Odd.

“Yeah. I’m not really brochure material to him. Too much of a nerd, I guess.”

Klaus lifted a plate in mock cheers to the teen. He returned it with his spider. “Be you, dude,” Klaus said. “If daddy dearest can’t handle it, then it’s his loss.”

The teen’s smile took on a softer edge, and for half a second Klaus could have sworn he saw his cheeks flush. Must have been his imagination.

“Matthew,” Larry’s voice came from behind Sam, and the man marched up to them. He stopped at the teen’s side (Matthew?) and turned a smile at Sam and Klaus. “I am so sorry about my son and his . . .  _ pet _ .”

Klaus raised a brow at the harsh tone. Matthew ducked his head down, brown bangs hiding his eyes.

“It’s no bother,” Sam protested.

“Excuse us,” Larry said. He dragged Matthew away by the arm, pushing past Dean on their way. Klaus’s heart clenched at the familiar manhandling. Ben, at his side, placed a hand on his shoulder in support.

“Remind you of somebody?” Sam asked as Dean rejoined them.

Dean shook his head.

“Dad?” Sam said, like it was obvious.

Dean looked incredulous. “Dad never treated us like that.”

Sam scoffed. “Well, Dad never treated  _ you _ like that. You were perfect. He was all over my case.”

Dean shook his head, surprise and confusion warring.

“You don’t remember?” Sam tilted his head.

“Well, maybe he raised his voice, but sometimes you were out of line.”

Klaus winced at that. Just because a kid acts like a menace doesn’t mean that a parent has the right to be like that. They’re  _ kids _ . It’s to be expected.

He was starting to realize that Dean held their father on a very high, very impenetrable altar. Just like Luther. He wasn’t sure he liked that comparison.

“Right,” Sam laughed humorlessly. “Right, like when I said I’d rather play soccer than learn bowhunting.”

“Bowhunting’s an important skill.”

“Yeah, just like learning how to gouge out someone’s eyes,” Klaus interrupted. “Or learning how to incapacitate someone with kitchen supplies. Fun times all around.”

The two startled, but Klaus just sighed and moved past them. “Benny and I are gonna eat. Come find us when you’re ready to go.”

Sam drove the car while Dean went over the notes they had. Dean had made Sam promise to go exactly the speed limit and treat his baby like the queen she is, yada yada, and Sam had barely tuned into it. Of course he was going to treat Baby with care. If he didn’t, Dean would kick his ass all the way to Hell and back. Baby was  _ Dean’s car _ , and he treated her with so much care and affection that it sometimes made Sam a little nervous.

Klaus was lounging in the back after having nearly eaten his weight in barbeque food. Which, admittedly, wasn’t a whole lot, but Klaus just about exploded from how much he ate, so Sam considered it enough. Ben, too, had eaten plenty, though he didn’t have the same issue as Klaus. Sam was sure the ghost was smirking at the other, painless where his brother was stuffed to the brim.

“What is it that could make different bugs attack?” Dean asked. While Klaus and Ben had been enjoying barbeque, Dean had told Sam that another person had been attacked by bugs. Long before the construction started, one of Larry’s surveyors died from a severe allergic reaction to bees.

“Well,” Sam said, glancing back at Klaus. “Hauntings sometimes include bug manifestations.”

Klaus perked up right away. “You think it  _ is _ a ghost?”

Dean shot it down instantly. “I saw  _ no _ evidence of ghost activity.”

“Neither did I,” Sam sighed. Klaus slumped back down. “Just thought I’d mention it, as I don’t have a clue.”

Klaus pouted.

To his right, Dean looked up from their dad’s journal. “Maybe they’re being controlled somehow. You know, by something or someone.”

“You mean like ‘Willard’?”

“Yeah, but instead of rats it’s bugs.”

“What’s ‘Willard’?” Klaus asked.

“Movie.”

“Ah,” Klaus nodded. “Haven’t seen much of those.”

“Well, there are cases of psychic connections between people and animals,” Sam said. “Telepaths . . .”

“Kids like me and Ben,” Klaus piped in.

Sam nodded. “Maybe some of the children weren’t killed?”

Dean frowned. “But Dad’s journal says that every last one of them was hunted except for those at the Academy.”

In the back, Klaus shrugged. “Who’s to say that some of it wasn’t falsified? If some kids were able to alter reality, like my sister Allison, maybe they went into hiding or something and made the hunters think that they killed them all.”

“Larry’s kid,” Dean said, snapping his fingers. “Got bugs for pets.”

“Matt?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think it’s him,” Klaus said. He wasn’t sure why, but it made him feel sick to think that the brown haired boy was the mastermind behind this. “He’s a lot like me. I don’t think he’d want to go out and kill a bunch of people.”

“Not without a reason, maybe,” Dean grunted.

“He did try to scare the realtor lady with a tarantula,” Sam said.

“It’s not him,” said Klaus with finality.

Sam pursed his lips and threw a glance Dean’s way. Dean nodded back. They’d keep Matt in mind, but they’d let the line of conversation go for now.

They continued the drive in silence for a while, the dark neighborhood of Oasis Plains passing by slowly. Klaus began to hum a quiet tune that was unfamiliar to Sam, maybe even made up.

“Wait, stop here,” Dean said, pointing to one of the new homes. Sam immediately pulled into the driveway, wondering where this was going.

Dean hopped out of the Impala and Sam asked, “What are we doing here?”

“It’s too late to talk to anybody else,” Dean said, rounding the front of the car and crouching down to lift open the garage.

“We’re gonna squat in an empty house?” Sam gaped at his brother.

“I wanna try the steam shower.” Dean waved him in. “Come on.” When Sam didn’t move, just frowned disappointedly at him, Dean said more firmly, “Come on!”

“Oh, goody!” Klaus clapped his hands. “I haven’t squatted since I was introduced to heroin!”

Dean watched the road while Sam let the car roll into the garage. As he passed, Sam punched Dean in the gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)  
> I am changing up the script already, it seems. This is going to be messy, most likely.  
> Thanks for reading!


	27. When I Wake Up I See You With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another victim is taken down by the bugs. Klaus sees Matt again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Everyone has been so nice in the comments. Thank you so much!  
> Warning: Spiders bite a person to death. Not explicit, just said in conversation. Starts "So, how did she die?" and ends with "Dean gaped". If you do skip, know that Klaus says that she was naked, lol.  
> Other warning: Klaus has a panic attack. It's not a very detailed thing, and it lasts maybe a page? Starts with "Speaking of his Asian brother, . . ." and ends with "'Ben,' Klaus said."  
> Be safe my dudes \\*o*/

You know, for squatting in a house with no furniture, Klaus liked this house much better than the crack house he was in back when he was fourteen. There weren’t holes in the walls, for starters, and everything was super clean aside from some dust. Klaus was comfortable while asleep on a floor for the first time since . . . well, ever.

It helped that Sam and Dean set up a little bed thing with their duffle bags and a couple of blankets from the car’s trunk.

Come morning, Klaus was almost too comfortable to get up. There wasn’t any screaming or wailing from ghosts, because they had salted the doors and windows before they fell asleep, and he wasn’t plagued with nightmares for once. The warm light trailing through the living room windows greeted him with soft touches, bringing him into awareness sooner than he wanted. He groaned.

“Oh, good, you’re up,” Sam’s voice filtered in through the fog. Blearily, Klaus turned his head to look at the man, Sam giving him a small wave and a smirk. “Glad you could join us.”

“D’n?” Klaus asked.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Still in the shower. It’s apparently ‘awesome’, if you wanted to know.”

Klaus smacked his lips and curled up tighter under the blanket. “I’ll have to take one later,” he said. “Or, you know, eventually. Once went almost a month without a shower. Used little hand wipes that they sometimes give out for free in hotels. Don’t ask how I got them.”

Sam hummed. “I ran away from the family, once. Decided to live on my own in a shed, with a dog I named Bones. I ate mostly pizza and chips, with a few beers here and there. Best time of my teen life.”

Klaus snorted at the story. “For real?”

“Yeah,” Sam grinned. “Dean had to find me, and took me back screaming and throwing a fit. Dad gave me a good slap and yelled a lot. Didn’t run away again until college.”

“You guys have never talked much about your time at college,” Klaus said. “I would like to think it’s because you graduated with honors and have a shiny degree?

Face darkening, Sam looked down at his hands and sighed. “No. I had a full ride. Dad was furious and . . . well, the details don’t matter. Just know that there was a big fight, and Dad kicked me out.”

Klaus nodded, sitting up and giving Sam his full attention. Sam threw a grateful half-smile his way.

“Dean was pissed, but he didn’t want to take sides. He knew that I loved school, and that this was my big chance to be normal. But, he also worships the ground that Dad walks on, and everything that Dad says is gospel to him. He was mostly pissed that I tore the family apart like that.” Sam scrunched his nose. “Not that I would have changed that. I finally had my  _ chance _ , you know?”

Klaus nodded. He did understand. After all, after finding Sam and Dean, this was Klaus’s chance.

“I didn’t look back. I cut ties with them and went to college for two years, and then . . .” He trailed off, pain glistening in his eyes.

“You didn’t graduate. Why?”

“Jessica Moore,” he said the name with reverence, like it was the name of a goddess or an angel. But there was that pain again.

Klaus knew that name. “Your girlfriend.”

Sam nodded. “Dean came back into my life like a hurricane. He told me Dad was missing, and that I needed to help him. It was only for the weekend, I told myself. I’d be back in time for my interview with another college for my Masters, and I could make it up to Jess the next weekend. It was only going to be two days.”

He swallowed convulsively, and Klaus didn’t like where this was going. He knew that Sam’s girlfriend had died the same way their mom died, but . . . how exactly had she died again?

“After the hunt, I came home to find her on the ceiling, stomach torn open and eyes sightless,” he said. “Flames engulfed her before I could even try to help, having appeared seemingly from nowhere after I found her. She died  _ right there _ , and I couldn’t do anything about it. The fire destroyed our apartment, and, well . . .” He shrugged and picked at his nails.

Klaus swallowed dryly. That was . . . a lot more disturbing than he thought it would be. So specific, too. He wondered  _ why _ the thing that killed her would go through all the extra steps like that.

“You’re out for revenge,” Klaus said. “Like your dad. So you dropped out of college and came back onto the hunting scene.”

“Basically.”

They allowed the silence to lapse between them, letting everything sink in. Klaus felt for Sam, he really did, but he wasn’t sure how to help. Ben was better at this kind of stuff, Klaus was just good at distracting and giving tactile support.

Speaking of his Asian brother, where did he go? He glanced around the room for him, but couldn’t find him. His heart rate spiked. Why was Ben not in the room? Ben never left his side. Did something happen? Did the salt affect him? Did he get lost somewhere?

. . . Did he leave Klaus?

Klaus gripped his shirt over his heart, the pang leaving him breathless. He tried to take in a breath, but was left with nothing, his airways closed off. His heart sent another pang through him, enough to make him jolt. Was he going to die?

Where was Ben?

“Klaus?”

Ben?

“Klaus, are you alright?”

Not Ben. Where was Ben?

A warm body settled next to him, hotter than the sun. He was so, so cold. He was always cold. Ben used to say it was because of his connection to death, how the ghosts would cling to him and make him colder than a corpse. Ben would run hot because of the beasts in his chest. Klaus ran cold.

So cold.

Ben?

“Klaus, can you hear me? You have to breathe.”

Breathe? He tried! Why wasn’t Ben here? Where’d he go? Did he leave Klaus? Does he hate him now? What did Klaus do wrong?

“Klaus!”

. . . Ben.

“Klaus, I’m here, I’m here,” Ben’s voice trickled in through his panicked thoughts. “I’m right here.”

Klaus reached for his brother, tangling his fingers in the black hoodie that the other boy had died in. He shook, but he held on as tight as he could.

“Breathe, Klaus.”

He did. He sucked in huge lungfuls of air, gasping like a drowning man. He felt Ben’s cold (so cold, why so cold, Ben?) hands grip tightly to his elbows, as though holding him up. Keeping him from falling. His anchor.

“Ben,” Klaus said.

“Yeah, Klaus. It’s me,” Ben squeezed him where he was being held. “You back with us?”

Klaus nodded, though his brain felt a little mushy. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry.”

Ben’s tender smile relaxed Klaus further. “Don’t apologize. It’s alright. Feeling better?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be gone for so long,” Ben said, shame coloring his cheeks. “I . . . was having a hard time getting back. The tether isn’t as strong when I end up in the Nothing.”

Klaus tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

Ben sighed, shifting so he could side hug Klaus. “Sometimes, when you go to sleep, I drift. Sometimes, I end up in this empty, dark, cold place. I call it the Nothing. It’s . . . terrifying, being there. If I didn’t have a tether to you, I’d be lost in there for sure.” He held on tighter. “I’m always so scared that one day, I won’t be able to come back.”

Klaus shook his head. “I wouldn’t let that happen. I’d pull you back every time.”

Ben snorted. “Will it always be in the middle of an attack?”

“Maybe,” Klaus stuck out his tongue.

“Well,” Ben’s features softened. “Whether subconsciously or not, I’m still really grateful that you call for me each time, either in the Nothing or just because. I . . . don’t ever want to be lost. Or forgotten.”

Klaus rested his head on Ben’s shoulder, vowing in his heart that he would always call for Ben from now on and forever. Klaus needed Ben just as much as Ben needed Klaus. “I’ll always call, Ben. I could never forget you.”

Ben rested his chin on Klaus’s head, nose buried in black curls.

Dean and Sam came back into the living room once Dean was finally changed and Ben and Klaus had enough time to calm down and talk things out. Dean placed a firm hand on Klaus’s shoulder and gave him a smile. The teen threw him a smile back and squeezed his hand.

Standing straight again and rolling his shoulders, Dean said, “So, Sam said there was another death?”

Klaus raised a brow. “There was?”

Sam nodded. “The realtor that I talked to at the barbeque died last night. We’re gonna go check it out.”

“And Klaus is coming,” Ben inserted unprompted. Dean rolled his eyes, exasperated, but gave them a nod. 

“Yeah, yeah, get in the car.”

Ten minutes later saw them driving up beside the realtor’s home, cops and a hearse already pulled alongside the road. Larry was standing out front with a black umbrella. All three (four, counting the invisible Ben) walked up to him with their own umbrellas. Klaus made a throwaway comment about wanting his own, pink or purple or  _ rainbow _ umbrella. Black was dull, according to him. Never mind the function.

“You guys are still in town?” Larry asked.

“Yeah, we wanted to have another look around,” Sam said. “What happened?”

“Well, you remember Linda Bloome, the realtor?”

“Yeah, short chick with black hair?” Dean added.

“She died last night,” Larry sighed.

“How?”

“It’s . . . not really my place to say.” A man in a police uniform whistled to draw Larry’s attention, then waved him over. “Excuse me.”

They let him go, and Dean turned to his little brothers. “Well, looks like we gotta find out the old fashioned way.”

“And by  _ that _ , you mean have me talk to her, right?” Klaus asked. “Because she’s standing right over there wailing and we are  _ not _ going to get our prints on an active crime scene.”

Dean flushed and frowned. “We’d be careful--”

“Doesn’t matter,” Klaus interrupted. “You’re currently blacklisted in one state. No need to make it another.”

“Hey! I faked my death.”

With a large frown and a smack to his shoulder, Klaus said, “Yeah, and fingerprints will  _ still be in the system _ , dumbass.” He rolled his eyes. A flair of anger surged up in Dean, and he had to hold himself back from manhandling the kid. Sam was the same at this age, after all. Better to let him be a bitch than to fight it out. Dad never did learn that. “Besides, why else am I here? Use me how I’m supposed to be used. How else can I be any help?”

And . . . yeah, he had a point there. Frustration and humiliation were not a good mix with Dean, so he did what he did best. Deflected and moved on. “Go and talk to her. Then we’re going out for burgers. I’m starving.”

Klaus smugly grinned and flounced near to the hearse. He didn’t even have to say anything before he came back, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Well?”

“I didn’t have to talk to her to know how she died,” Klaus said. “Since she’s still so fresh, she’s kind of hysterical, so talking to her would have probably only attached her to me. First off, don’t want to do that. Second, it wouldn’t have helped to talk to her anyway. She didn’t mention seeing an attacker in her crazy rambles, but she did mention spiders.”

“Spiders,” Dean threw a look at Sam. “Like our spider boy?”

“Matt,” Sam cut in.

Klaus screwed up his nose. “I already told you. It  _ can’t  _ be him.” He seemed doubtful of his own words, though.

“So, how did she die? Spider bites?” Dean prompted.

“Basically. And she had lacerations along her arms, face, and legs. Glass, I think, since there was some poking out of her thigh.” Klaus sighed. “She was naked, too.”

Dean gaped. “Wait, for real?”

“And wet.”

“Dude,” Dean held up a hand. “TMI.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Like, as in, she took a  _ shower _ , Dean. Perv.” He twisted his umbrella around. “My guess? She was taking a shower to get ready for bed, a bunch of spiders appeared and scared her, she fell through her shower door, and ended up bleeding out as well as being poisoned from so many bites.”

It was a pretty good theory. It all pointed to one person, though, and Dean was worried that Klaus wouldn’t be able to think otherwise.

“I don’t know, Klaus,” Sam said. “This is all kind of adding up to Matt being our bad guy. He’s the one who tried to scare her with a tarantula at the barbeque, knows a lot about bugs, and has a thing against his dad. It wouldn’t be a very far stretch.”

Klaus shook his head in denial. “No.” Brows raised, he flipped his eyes up to the older two. “We should ask him. When he gets back from school later on today.”

“Okay,” Dean agreed, because he knew that this would make it easier for all of them. Klaus’s bright smile in return was worth it anyway. “But first, I need me a greasy burger. Maybe some pie.”

The burger was actually a lot better than Dean said. Less grease, more deliciousness. It was huge, though, and Klaus could barely hold it with his long, skinny fingers. He only ate about half and some of his fries before he gave up.

Sam had a large salad and Dean had what looked like the whole menu. Burger, fries, a slice of pie, and a milkshake. Klaus had no idea where he stored all of that food. Maybe he had a black hole in his stomach.

He snorted. His mom always used to joke that Ben had a black hole in his stomach because of how much the boy ate (except after a particularly gruesome mission). Klaus used to sneak any food he couldn’t stomach to eat over to Ben’s plate (because being locked away in a mausoleum and being surrounded with rotting dead tended to do that). His brother didn’t realize he did it until after he died.

Speaking of Ben, his ghost brother didn’t seem to want to eat anything right now. Klaus tilted his head in question. Ben just sighed.

“Usually I would, but . . . I don’t know, I just don’t want to feel anything right now. It’s . . . a bit much at the moment.”

Klaus scooted his seat closer to his brother and gave him a sympathetic smile. He supposed it would make sense, considering Ben was used to being dead by this point and suddenly having the ability to feel and eat and touch stuff might be a bit of a shock. Klaus was a bit surprised this issue hadn’t come up yet.

Ben smiled back in relief.

“Guess I’ll just have to share again,” Klaus winked. When Klaus was still on the streets, whenever he was able to scrounge up enough to get some food (or, you know, steal some), he always gave half of his earnings to Ben. Ben pleaded with him not to do that, but Klaus joked that it was a way to appease his “guardian deity”. Ben never found it funny.

He laughed, now, however exasperated it was. Score for Klaus.

“So what are we going to say to Matt?” Sam asked.

“Well, let's start with if he knows his dad’s friend is dead,” Dean said through a mouthful of fries. Klaus’s stomach curled in disgust.

“At least swallow before you start talking, please.”

Dean only opened his mouth wider, chewing with his maw agape. Klaus gagged exaggeratedly.

“Guys,” Sam said, trying to get them back on track. “Focus. And that’s a good start, but I was thinking maybe we just got straight to the point. He might clam up and spill the beans if we just ask him outright if he’s the one behind this.”

“He might run, though,” Ben pointed out. “We’d have to corner him.”

“I don’t like the idea of that,” Klaus said. “What if he didn’t do anything wrong? We might cause more harm than good.”

Dean sighed. “If he didn’t do anything wrong, he won’t run. If he does run, we can catch him. He’s a scrawny sixteen year old. We’re hunters.”

“Excuse you, I resemble that remark,” Klaus placed a hand to his chest.

Dean snorted. “Yeah, but you probably have a bit more muscle than he does. It looks to me like the kid hasn’t lifted anything bigger than a spider before in his life.”

“Klaus,” Ben nudged his side and Klaus looked to him. Ben pointed outside the diner.

A mop of brown hair, a lanky stance, a blue backpack, and rumpled jeans. A rounded nose. A huge jacket that covered his hands.

Matt.

“Well, speak of the devil,” Dean said. “Why’s he sneaking around at this time? School isn’t out yet.”

Klaus swallowed down the thumping in his chest and stood from their table. “Guess we better find out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter wasn't edited as much as it could have been. My friend dropped out of the class that I explained before, and my machine that is used for the class broke (just the needle, but still ridiculously expensive). I got upset. Took a nap and had no idea what day it was. Forgot it was update day until last minute, lol.  
> This teacher is going to kill all of us I swear. The main reason I haven't dropped is because I can't, and I want to stay anyway just to prove that I could.  
> (Also because my bestie is in this class and I don't want her to suffer alone ;-;)


	28. Karma Comes Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group follows Matt into the woods. They meet someone unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An OC? In front of my salad? More likely than you think.  
> Warnings: Graphic wounds and a woman who is implied to have been raped and killed. Begins with "Klaus whimpered and covered his ears . . ." and ends with "He was like an ant in the storm . . ."

Ben was fairly certain that Klaus had a crush. And not just the “I want to get into this really hot person’s bed for the night because he’s cute and I’m cold” routine, either. No, his brother was honestly interested in this kid, Matt. Since all the evidence was stacking against the other boy, Ben wasn’t too happy about that. 

He just hoped that Klaus wouldn’t let his crush color his actions or thoughts.

Ben was highly suspicious as Matt wandered into the woods just outside of the developmental area. It seemed he wasn’t the only one, as Dean frowned and put a firm hand on Klaus’s shoulder.

“Whatever we find in there . . .” he started.

“We give him a chance,” Klaus pushed, eyes fiery and unwilling to back down. “Ask questions first.”

Dean nodded, lips pursed and sympathy in his gaze. He waved for Sam to follow, then trudged in after Matt, Klaus taking the back of the line.

The woods weren’t very dense, but they did have a lot of undergrowth to wade through. Klaus vaguely complained about ticks, Sam and Dean remaining stoic and eyes sharp in their focus on Matt.

Matt stopped just before a clearing, hiding behind a tree and peeking around the trunk into the open area beyond. Ben’s brows came together, a feeling of unease settling in his stomach.

Dean came up behind him, Sam flanking the right, and Klaus taking up the left (he refused to sneak up on Matt, though). Ben floated at Klaus’s side, but his unease grew the closer they got to Matt. The Horror agreed, shifting around under his ghostly skin.

He startled as a wail rang through the clearing. At his side, Klaus flinched and came to a stop. Another wail started up, and another, until there were  _ thousands _ of voices screeching and wailing and demanding for  _ Klaus, Klaus, KLAUS! KLAUS! KLAUS! _

Klaus whimpered and covered his ears, and Matt whipped around at the noise. Ben stood in front of his brother as wave after wave of ghosts swarmed towards them. Ghastly wounds covered their rotting bodies. The ghosts all seemed to have a similar feature. Black hair, tan skin, and long faces. Some of the clothes reminded Ben of early American tribes that they kind of brushed on at the Academy. Feathers adorned some, moccasins and tanned leather covering their broken forms. Tattoos littered faces and arms and chests. There were some that had gaping holes in their stomachs, others with hearts ripped from their chests and bones poking out of their skin. Some had arms or legs cut from torsos, some had thick bruises covering their necks and ribs.

One woman, blood puddling from between her legs, moaned at them with a broken jaw. Her bruised covered arms reached out for Klaus, and Ben immediately batted her away. 

He was like an ant in the storm. It wouldn’t be long before he drowned.

Sam startled as Klaus whimpered loudly and backed into a tree. The teen cowered from something no one could see, scraping his back against the bark and covering his ears harshly with his palms.

“What--?” Matt said.

“Sam--” Dean began.

Sam crouched beside the teen. “Klaus, what is it?”

Klaus flinched and hid himself from Sam. Sam’s heart ached.

What was the number that Ben sometimes used when Klaus was having a hard time differentiating reality from the dead? “Four,” Sam said.

Klaus quieted immediately, but he still hid himself.

“Four, you need to control them. You need to send them away.”

Klaus shivered.

“Now, Four!”

With a wail, Klaus’s hands glowed bright blue, bright enough that Sam had to cover his eyes or risk being blinded. A flash of searing light, and it was over. Sam blinked his eyes open and was met with Klaus slumped over, nose and ears bleeding. Sam quickly checked for a pulse, and sighed in relief when he felt a steady rhythm beneath his fingers.

“Alright, Sammy?”

“Yeah,” Sam held up a thumb. “All good here.”

“What the hell was that?” Matt asked, arms raised defensively. “W-Why was he all glowy? And what’s  _ wrong _ with him.”

“Nothing,” Sam snapped.

“Why don’t we start with why you’re out here,” Dean said. Sam wondered if the kid would even talk now after all of that.

“I . . .” Matt swallowed, dragging his gaze away from Klaus to Dean. He relaxed slightly, and Sam raised a brow. “I was following someone from school. He’s from my bug club.”

“Bug club?” Dean asked, incredulous.

Matt brightened. “Yeah. I’m the captain. Got it started about a year ago, and we--”

Dean waved a hand. “Don’t care. What were you following him for?”

Matt scuffed his foot against the ground, avoiding looking at Klaus. “Well, he was acting really strange today. Standoffish. He skipped our club meeting, and then he ran off during lunch.”

“So you followed him?”

Matt nodded, looking sheepish. “He was heading towards this clearing, where I already noticed some strange insect activity. I thought maybe he was looking into it, too.”

Dean glanced around. “Well, where is he now?”

“Who are you people?” a teen said from behind Sam. Sam whipped around, arm stretched out protectively in front of Klaus.

A boy, no older than Klaus and Matt, stood with a confident air. His long, thick black hair was tied back, showing off his tanned skin and dark brown eyes. He wore a leather jacket and jeans, but they were scuffed and dirty. He had a smudge of dirt along his cheek.

“Usually, you introduce yourself first before demanding questions,” Dean said.

“You can’t be here,” the boy bristled. “This is  _ sacred ground _ .”

“Desna,” Matt spoke up. The boy’s head switched to him.

“. . . Matt?” Desna took an aborted step back. “Why are  _ you _ here?”

“I-I followed you. I thought you were looking into the weird insect patterns--”

“Did you bring them here?” Desna demanded.

“No, I swear I didn’t--!”

Desna’s lip curled. “I thought you were a friend to me and my kind.”

“Wh . . .? Of course I’m your friend!” Matt turned scarlet. “I . . . I thought that maybe . . .”

“What?” Desna crossed his arms. “That I’d go along with everything you and your family does? That just because we share an interest, that I could look  _ past  _ all of that? You’re just like your dad! And you came here to hurt us even more!”

Matt shook his head. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”

Desna scoffed and glared at the foliage. “Typical.”

“Desna--”

“Just go,” Desna growled. “Before I do something I regret.”

Matt gaped, jaw moving but no words escaping. Dean took that as their cue and nodded to Sam, who lifted Klaus easily into his arms while Dean led Matt out of the woods. Desna kept a careful eye on them on their way out, tense and silent.

Once they were carefully out of the trees and on asphalt, Sam turned to Matt for answers as to what just happened. Klaus hung limply in his arms, head lolled against his chest. Sam adjusted him so he wouldn’t hurt his neck.

Matt didn’t say anything, pale face even whiter, and bottom lip tucked under teeth.

“Matt? You okay?”

Matt didn’t answer, just gave a small nod. “Is he okay?” he gestured to Klaus.

“He’ll be just fine,” Sam reassured, giving him a smile.

Matt nodded again. “I . . . I had no idea he hated me that much . . .”

“Desna?” Dean asked. “Speaking of. Who is he? What was he on about?”

“Desna is the friend I followed,” Matt confirmed, though they guessed that easily enough. Sam assumed that he was still trying to process and wanted to stall for time. “He, um . . . He lives with a Euchee tribe just outside of the city limits. He doesn’t like my dad too much, and I can’t blame him.”

“Any particular reason why?”

Matt shrugged. “I never really asked.”

“What about the ‘sacred ground’ thing he was on about?”

Matt shrugged again, becoming distressed. “I don’t know! I wish I did, though, because he looked really upset.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably, and Sam knew what he was going to say before he said it. “You have a thing for him, don’t you?”

In an instant, Matt became dark red from head to toe. “Um . . . Don’t tell my dad. He’d . . . well, I’m already the outcast. I’d really prefer it if he didn’t beat the crap out of me.”

The bitterness in his voice made Sam want to reassure him that everything would be alright. Dean beat him to it.

“We wouldn’t tell on you,” he said. “But, um . . . any particular reason why you like him?”

“Well, have you  _ seen _ him?” Matt sighed. “And he’s in the bug club. He knows a lot about insects, more than me. And his favorite beetle is the Hercules Beetle, which is an  _ awesome _ beetle.” He glanced back the way they came. “I just hope I didn’t completely ruin everything.”

Dean picked at his jeans, eyes far off. “That’s all? Not . . . not for any other reason?”

Matt tilted his head. “What other reasons  _ should _ I have?”

Dean didn’t say anything, just bit his lip and lowered his head. Sam was nervous about the reaction to this. Dean was being so weird . . .

“Matt,” Sam said, drawing the teen’s attention back to him. “Just wait until you’re eighteen. Then guess what happens? College. You can move far away from your dad and do whatever you want. You can be free.”

Dean’s head snapped to Sam. “Don’t tell him stuff like that. You should stay with your family, even if things get hard.”

Sam glared at Dean. Dean gaped, realizing what he said.

“Like I said. Just wait until you’re eighteen. Dean,” Sam nodded his head for the car.

They left Matt on the edge of the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is my shortest yet at 1600 ish words. Why? Because I legit could not think of more to add to it without it feeling clumped and cluttered.  
> Thank you for reading and for all the kind responses! If there's any constructive feedback you have to offer, don't be afraid to comment below.


	29. Mixed Signals, They're Killin' Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus gets some answers (but not enough). Dean is confused and uncomfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! I'm late! No excuses! Except that I spent over an hour today cutting out fabric! Yay!  
> My back hurts lol

Klaus came to with a headache so bad that he wanted to cry. Instead, he groaned loudly and sat up through the pain. Propping his chin in one hand, he gave a lazy look around the area, trying to discern where he was.

He was back in the motel, Sam’s laptop where he had left it yesterday (or was it two days ago?), and a duffel on the table next to it, opened and with a few of the contents spilling out. Namely, their father’s journal that they never left alone with Klaus. For some reason, the knowledge that no one was here and the journal was out in the open was both heartwarming and alarming. If they were so worried about something happening to it, they should carry it everywhere and never let Klaus anywhere near it.

“They went out for dinner,” Ben’s voice filtered in at his side. Klaus didn’t turn his head, but he relaxed just knowing his brother was there. “They said they’d bring back ribs for you.”

“Ribs? Too messy,” Klaus stuck out his tongue.

“Klaus . . .” Ben became serious. “Do you know what happened? What you did?”

“Kinda . . .” he massaged his temples. “It’s really fuzzy, though.”

Ben circled around the bed and knelt in front of him. “You sent away  _ all _ of those ghosts. Nearly made me disappear, too, then passed out like a girl.”

“Bet it was very elegant and not at all the derogatory insinuation you’re . . . insinuating.”

Ben threw him a bitch face. “Focus.”

“Trying. Kind of hard with the sledgehammer in my skull.”

“So you really don’t remember anything after that?”

“I passed out, Benny. I doubt I would have been able to remember anything except the sweet, sweet bliss of nothingness.” Klaus paused and looked right at his brother. “Wait, did you just say I sent away  _ all  _ of those ghosts?”

Ben’s frown lifted into a grin. “Yep.”

“There were thousands of them!” he shouted, then winced and rubbed his forehead. “How?”

“I don’t know. Probably a fear response, maybe something to do with Sam yelling at you with your real name.”

Klaus winced again, but for another reason. “Ah, yeah, I do remember that . . .” He shuddered, pushing the memories far,  _ far  _ back.

He reached forward and put a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “What about Matt? He’s okay, right? Did they question him?” Ben grew solemn. “Oh no, did they  _ hurt _ him?”

“No, no,” Ben quickly reassured, taking Klaus’s other hand. “Matt’s fine. We, uh . . .” Ben rubbed the back of his neck. “We ran into a . . .  _ friend _ of his.”

“An actual friend?”

“Well, Desna, the friend, seemed to be pretty upset about us being there, and blamed Matt for showing us to a ‘sacred ground’ or whatever.”

“Desna?” Klaus scrunched his nose. “Sounds Indian.”

Ben snorted. “He’s apparently Euchee.”

“Oh,” Klaus coughed into his hand. “Native American, then? And it sounds like a feminine name.”

Ben shrugged. “Probably is. Besides the point.”

“So, he got all mad at everyone and, what, we just left?”

“Basically,” Ben hesitated on the next bit, and Klaus tensed.

“What happened? And why didn’t Sam and Dean question Matt?”

“Well . . .”

The motel door squeaked open and Sam and Dean tumbled in. Sam had a firm hand on Dean’s shoulder, while Dean carried a huge bag that smelled amazing. Klaus’s mouth watered.

"Hey! You're up," Dean grinned and tossed the bag onto the table. "Go ahead and dig in. You're probably starving."

Klaus lunged at it like a wild animal. He didn't even care that it was ribs. He was just so  _ hungry _ and it smelled so  _ good. _

"Easy, tiger," Dean laughed.

"Screw manners," Klaus said between bites. "My tummy feels like the Sahara Desert."

"Probably because of the massive mojo you pulled."

"Speaking of," Sam spoke up as he settled in front of his laptop. "What happened out there?"

Klaus took a few more bites before answering. “Apparently, I just sent away over a thousand ghosts.”

They both raised their brows. “Whoa, for real?” Dean asked. “You were still having trouble sending away one person.”

Klaus nodded. “Yeah. I’m kind of impressed with myself.”

“Why were there so many ghosts?” Sam asked.

He hesitated, then pushed the ribs aside and cleaned himself off with a napkin. “It was a tribe of Native Americans. They were massacred by white people that came into their land.”

Ben tilted his head. “How did you get that from all the screaming?”

Klaus snorted. “After a while, you get used to it, Benny.”

“They weren’t even speaking in a language that we knew.”

“Correction. They didn’t speak in a language that  _ you _ knew, Ben,” Klaus held up a finger. “I, however, knew what they were saying.”

“How? You never stuck around for the language lessons growing up.”

“Because, my dear, I don’t need to learn stuff I already know. I listen to ghosts of all origins all day long. Picked up a few things here and there.”

“So, a bunch of butchered ghosts attacked you,” Dean said, getting them back to the topic. “Why specifically there?”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Well,  _ obviously _ , that’s where they were all buried. Probably why our friend Desna said it was sacred ground. We were tromping on a burial site.”

“Yikes,” Sam winced. “No wonder the kid was so upset.”

“Yeah, Ben didn’t go into much detail about that,” Klaus said. “Who is Desna anyway?”

“Matt’s  _ friend _ from his bug club,” Dean answered.

Klaus wasn’t too sure he liked the emphasis on the word “friend”, but he let it slide. “He has a bug club? That’s adorable!”

Ben winced. Klaus shifted in his seat when Sam awkwardly looked away from him. Dean rubbed his face.

“What? Why’s everyone acting so weird?” Klaus flapped his hands around at everyone to try and encompass the  _ weird _ that was going on.

“Nothing, nothing,” Dean said, standing abruptly from the bed to pace. “So a sacred area in the woods nearby a developing neighborhood is having strange bug patterns and people within the neighborhood are dying from bug attacks. Sounds like maybe the ghost theory wasn’t far off.”

Sam smirked, but Klaus shook his head. 

“I really don’t think it’s a ghost problem.”

“What? You were all gung ho about it being a ghost.”

“I know, I know. And while those ghosts were angry, they were too unstable to be able to do something like this. The other ghosts we fought had more clarity and a purpose. These guys were confused and hurting and just . . . lost. Nothing was really holding them here. I’m sure I would have had a much harder time sending them away if they were the reason for all of this.”

Dean sighed heavily and placed his hands on his hips. “So, what? Back to square one?”

“It could still be Matt,” Sam pointed out. “Or Desna. Desna got upset about outsiders on the sacred ground. Maybe he doesn’t want the development to continue and desecrate it?”

“Could be,” Dean nodded. “He gets upset that his ancestors are being mistreated and goes crazy on everyone.”

“I guess we’d have to talk to him,” Sam shrugged.

“Tomorrow,” Klaus whined. “I have a really bad headache, and if we come across any more ghosts I won’t be able to do much. I’m too drained.”

Sam looked to Dean for the say so. Dean fiddled with his jacket sleeves until he finally nodded. “Alright. Tomorrow.”

Sam slept well for the first time in a while, and Dean was grateful for it. He had his own demons to deal with, namely the memories that talking with Matt brought up.

He was conflicted, because on one hand, he was trying to be more open about a lot of stuff, what with Klaus in their group, but also . . . 

_ “You see that guy over there?” Dad said, pointing to the man who helped the male bartender. “He’s not a real man. Gotta be careful not to end up like them.” _

Dean had been twelve at that time, and was already struggling with hormones. Lucky for him that his dad had given him some pointers.

_ “People like that are sissies,” Dad told him when he asked more about the man at the bar. “They’re too nice, too clean, and definitely in love with another man.” _

_ “That’s allowed?” Dean asked. _

_ “Of course it’s not,” Dad said, ruffling his hair. “Those people have something sick about them. Their heads aren’t right.” _

Dean was alarmed at how easy it was for Matt to admit that he liked Desna. He felt uncomfortable at the knowledge that Matt was so willing to share that about himself, and Dean felt confused by the small part of him that was silently relieved by it.

“Hey,” Klaus said at his side, placing a light hand on his shoulder. “Are you doing alright? You don’t have, like, a need to suddenly start angsting alone in the car, right? ‘Cause I can only handle so much of that for one lifetime, and already had my fill.”

“What?” Dean asked dumbly. He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure you are. And I’m a Christian.”

Dean slowed to a stop. “. . . Are you?”

“Of course not,” Klaus elbowed his side. “Just like you clearly aren’t fine. Sarcasm.”

Dean chuckled and elbowed him back. “Don’t worry, kiddo. Just need to figure some things out.”

“Maybe me or Ben can help.”

“Nah. No need to bore you with trivial stuff.”

Klaus pursed his lips. “Ben’s calling you a total idiot, you know.”

“Well, tell him that he has no say, because he’s dead.”

“Low blow,” Klaus snickered. “To be fair, he thinks everyone is an idiot.”

They stopped before the door of Desna’s house. Sam went ahead and knocked while Klaus talked animatedly with Ben. Dean shuffled closer to Sam’s side, unconsciously getting in front of his brother.

A short, tan woman opened the door. “Ah, hello. How can I help you?”

“Is this Desna’s house?” Klaus asked, stepping in closer to the woman and shoving Sam and Dean out of the way. “I’m a friend from school, and my brothers wanted to drop me off.”

“Oh, of course! Come on in,” the woman opened the door fully, and Klaus waltzed inside. Sam and Dean followed, and Dean was glad for the excuse. He was so lost in thought that he hadn’t planned on what to say once they got to Desna’s place.

Klaus plopped himself on the couch, splaying himself out like he owned the place. He started playing with a trinket on the side table. Sam took a seat as well, being courteous as always, while Dean stood near the archway.

“Desna isn’t home right now, you just missed him,” the woman said. “He went out for a little walk.”

“Ah, okay. I guess I’ll have to catch up to him in a bit. I’m kind of tired from the walk here, though, so I’ll just sit for a bit,” Klaus said.

“Make yourself at home,” the woman smiled tightly as Klaus nearly dropped the trinket, and Dean had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

“Ma’am,” Sam said politely. “Do you know where Desna likes to walk? That way when we drop off Klaus we make sure he gets there safely.”

“He likes to take walks in the woods, near the new developments,” the woman answered. “He told me that his best friend lives around there, and he likes to surprise him.”

“Oh, Matt?” Klaus asked.

“That’s the one! You know him?”

“Of course,” Klaus sighed, and Dean got that uncomfortable feeling again. “He’s a really great guy.”

“My son makes the same face when talking about that boy,” the woman chuckled. “He must be something quite special.”

Klaus’s jaw clenched, and he gripped the trinket tighter. “Yeah . . . he is.”

“So, he likes to walk around the woods,” Sam said. “Anything in particular about them? Why not just go straight to Matt’s house?”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Oh, now you’re sounding like his great grandfather. Says that there’s something special about those woods. Something to do with a great prophecy or whatever.”

“Prophecy?” Dean and Sam mirrored.

“Mhmm,” she rolled her wrist out. “Supposedly, a chief a long time ago made a prophecy that a miracle child would come to exact revenge for the slaughter that happened there.”

“There was a slaughter?” Klaus asked.

“Oh, don’t you worry, honey,” she said. “It was hundreds of years ago, now.” She chuckled. “My grandfather has it in his head that Desna is that miracle child. While it was a blessing of the gods that he was born, he’s not a child of prophecy. He’s a  _ child _ .”

“What made him a miracle?” Sam asked.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Hmm,” Klaus hummed. “Was he, by chance, born on a day that you hadn’t been pregnant beforehand? Just suddenly popped out and  _ bam _ , there he was?”

The woman blinked. “Yes. How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” Klaus stood, placing the trinket back, and stretched. “Let’s go find Desna. I’ve been meaning to ask him a few trivia questions about a specific type of dung beetle.”

He didn’t wait for Sam and Dean to say their goodbyes, nor for the woman to grab the door. He tromped out the same way he had in: like a hurricane, stopping for nothing and no one.

Dean gave a mock salute to the woman and followed him out, and Sam scrambled to catch up. Dean jogged up beside the teen.

“Klaus, wait,” Dean said. “What was that? We didn’t get all the information--”

“We have all we need,” Klaus reassured. “Desna is one of the thirty-six children that were born on the same day that me and my siblings did, that were supposedly killed off. I don’t know about you, but that pretty much gives us everything. And the fact that he’s the apparent miracle child of a prophecy set to avenge a bunch of ghosts? It all adds up. He has powers, he has a motive, and--”

“But Dad’s journal said they were all wiped out by hunters.”

“Yeah, well, maybe he got it wrong.”

“My dad doesn’t ‘get things wrong’.”

“Maybe this time, he did. He could have been tricked, or had his mind all scrambled up.”

“Dad would have made sure that his information was correct before he put it in his journal.”

“Again, maybe he was lied to.”

“But he would have made absolutely certain, and checked it for himself in detail. He never misses anything.”

“Dad isn’t right about everything, Luther!” Klaus shouted. Dean leaned back as though slapped. “Sometimes he gets things wrong!”

Panting, Klaus hunched his shoulders up to his ears. Ben must have said something, then, because Klaus paled and shook his head like he was trying to get rid of a pest.

“Dean.” Klaus said. Dean stood up straighter on instinct. “I . . . I meant Dean.” He flapped his hand. “Anyways. It’s Desna. It’s obvious.”

“Hey, guys,” Sam waved them over. “It’s Matt. Desna called him, telling him to get far away from the town tonight. Matt’s worried he’s going to do something.”

Dean grit his teeth.

What else was Dad wrong about?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! The argument between Klaus and Dean was kinda hard to write, so if it sounded rushed or kinda wonky, lemme know.


	30. I Was Gettin’ Kind of Used to Being Someone You Loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for like the whole freakin chapter. There be bugs everywhere my dude. Nothing explicit, but it's a lot of bugs. If you decide you do not want to read that and skip the whole thing, I'll put a summary at the bottom.**  
> Klaus also has a breakdown at the end of the chapter.

Klaus was annoyed, mostly. Ben called it "jealous". He wasn't  _ jealous _ , he was just . . . irritated at Desna. He didn't know why, but he was. It had absolutely nothing to do with what Desna’s mother said about how special Matt was. Or that apparently Desna liked Matt.

Nothing at all,  _ Ben _ .

Sam stayed on the line with Matt while they all piled into the car to get to Matt's place as fast as they could. "Matt, can you get your family away from the house?"

Klaus gnawed on his nails, chewing them down to the quick and then some. Ben hissed at him to stop it when he started to bleed, so he tugged on his hair instead.

"Tell them the truth, that Desna is controlling the bugs to kill people, is coming to hurt them, and that you all need to leave."

Dean nabbed the phone from Sam. "Are you crazy? They'll never believe that!" He pressed the phone to his ear. "Matt, tell them that you have a sharp pain in your right side and you have to get to the hospital." He tossed the phone back to Sam. "Tell them the truth . . ." he grumbled. "That's a sure way to get them killed."

Sam threw Dean a nasty look. Klaus's fingers found their way back to his lips.

"Klaus, it'll be okay," Ben said. He took Klaus's hand, giving it a squeeze. "Desna won't hurt Matt."

"We hope."

Ben's lips pinched together. He said nothing more, but held tight to Klaus's hands to keep him from hurting himself. Klaus's knees shook wildly from the stress.

Dean swerved into Matt's driveway, and Klaus panicked at the family car still parked innocently out in the open. They hadn't left yet.

"Breathe, Klaus."

"Dammit," Dean threw open the Impala door with a squeal and stomped up to the front door. Klaus scrambled to follow, while Sam took a more sedate pace behind them. The bug zapper hanging from the porch crackled.

The front door to the house burst open and Larry came storming out. “Get off my property before I call the cops!” he shouted.

“Mr. Pike, listen--” Sam started.

“No,  _ you  _ listen--”

“Dad, they’re just trying to help,” Matt said, voice cracking.

“Get in the house!”

“What happened to the plan, Matt?” Dean asked calmly, but Klaus could see the fire in his eyes.

“I told them the truth,” Matt said, picking at his too huge jacket sleeves.

"Stop filling my son's head with delusions," Larry went on, pointing a finger. "His best friend controls bugs with his mind? And is the one responsible behind all the deaths? Are you  _ nuts _ ? I should have you all arrested or locked somewhere where you can't hurt children, you freaks."

“Mr. Pike, Desna is on his way right now,” Sam pleaded with the man to listen. Klaus shifted closer, a chill running down his spine. The bug zapper crackled again. “Any minute now, he’s going to come, and he’s going to hurt you and your family. You have to get your family and  _ go _ , before it’s too late.”

“Oh, what, before a child comes to work his magic on us and make his little bugs annoy us to death?” Larry scoffed.

“What do you think happened to that realtor, huh?” Dean asked. “And the gas company guy. You don’t think something weird is going on around here?”

Larry shook his head in denial. “Look, I don’t know  _ who _ you are, but you’re crazy. You come near my boy or my family again, and we’re gonna have a problem.”

By this point, Klaus was much closer to Matt, and he asked quietly, “Hey, are you alright?”

Matt nodded softly. He hid beneath his brown fringe. “He never  _ listens _ . . .”

“Hey, stay away from him,” Larry growled, marching to Klaus and reaching as though to grab his shoulder. Klaus scurried away from the unwanted touch, heart pounding wildly.

“Don’t touch him,” Sam snarled at Larry.

“Wait,” Dean held up a hand. “You hear that?”

Everyone paused, ears trained to hear what Dean heard. Klaus swallowed heavily when the buzz of insect wings filled the air.

“What the hell?” Larry lowered his arm, face bewildered.

The sudden, intense crackling of the bug zapper startled everyone, and they all looked to the blue and white flashing electricity coming from the device.

“Alright, we have to go. Larry, get your wife,” Dean slapped Sam’s chest and gestured for Klaus. “Sam, Klaus--”

“Guys,” Matt said. The panic in his voice had Klaus flipping back to him, then towards the end of the street. There, in a swarm of flying insects and an army of many legged bugs, was Desna. His long hair whipped in the insect-made wind, expression cold and dark.

“We’re out of time,” Klaus said.

“Everybody in the house,” Dean ordered. “Everybody in the house! Go!”

Sam and Dean ushered everyone inside, Klaus right behind Matt. The bug zapper continued to crackle fiercely as they passed it, and Klaus had to shield his eyes to keep from being blinded by it.

Inside, Matt’s mother entered the foyer. “Larry? What’s going on?”

Dean slammed and locked the door shut behind them.

“Call 911,” Larry ordered his wife. When she didn’t move, standing in shock at the insects that pelted the windows, he said, “Joanie!”

“Okay.”

“Alright, everyone, we need to close and lock all the windows and doors, all the chimneys and anything that a bug could crawl through.”

“The phones aren’t working!” Joanie called from the kitchen.

“Cells are down, too,” Klaus reported, holding up his burner phone.

“They must have chewed through the phone lines,” Dean muttered a curse. “There are too many, and there’s no way to get a signal past them.” He started stuffing towels beneath the doors.

The electricity crackled and died, leaving them in a dark house. “Dammit, they ate through the powerlines.”

Klaus shook, images of the dead flickering in and out of his vision.

“Klaus, can you hear me?” Dean’s voice, muffled for some reason, filtered through. Dean tugged on Klaus’s hands to get them away from his ears. He didn’t even realize that he had put them there. Along with it, Ben’s calming voice whispering reassurances that it was in his head, there weren’t any ghosts around them, he was safe. A warm hand settled on his shoulder. “Klaus!”

“I’m here,” Klaus whimpered. “I’m here.”

“Good, I need you to keep the family safe, okay?” Dean said. “You take this and you guard them.” Something heavy was placed in Klaus’s hand.

A flare.

Dean and Sam had canisters of . . . something, and their lighters. “We’re gonna hold them off as long as we can,” Dean said. Klaus knew, then, what he meant.

They weren’t going to win this.

They were all going to die.

But they were all going to go down fighting.

Klaus swallowed heavily past the lump in his throat, but moved towards Matt and his parents. 

“And Klaus?”

Klaus looked back at Dean.

“I’m sorry.”

Klaus shrugged. “You’ve made the last three months the best time of my life.”

Dean nodded. He and Sam readied their positions for the storm.

Everything was quiet for a moment, hearts pounding in ears the only noise. Ben shifted closer to Klaus, something nagging at him, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think of what it was.

The  _ life _ of him.

Life.

The others were  _ alive _ .

Ben, however, was not.

With a gasp, he turned to Klaus. “Klaus, make me visible to Desna.”

“What?” Klaus looked at him like he was insane.

“Just, please. I think I can stop this!”

Klaus nodded just as the windows shattered and a legion of horseflies raided the house. Sam and Dean tried desperately to hold them off with their makeshift flame throwers, and Klaus lit the flare to keep them away from the frightened family.

Ben didn’t hesitate, and ran through the front door to stop Desna. The bugs passed through him harmlessly, wave after wave of nasties dropping once they chilled at his ghostly touch. His body glowed in a faint blue hue, and he smiled to himself.

He could do this.

Desna was at the center of what looked like a bug tornado. His arms glowed with an unnatural green power, eyes shining the same bright green glow. His handsome features were twisted into an ugly snarl.

“Desna!” Ben called out, and those eerie green eyes trained on him. The anger was replaced with confusion.

“Who are you?” he asked, voice sandpapery.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ben sliced a hand through the air. “You have to listen to me. You have to stop this!”

“I don’t have to listen to anyone!” Desna howled. A surge of bugs came tearing through Ben, but he didn’t move. Instead, the cold seeping through his veins intensified, and the bugs literally froze at the contact to his skin. They dropped to the ground in frozen clumps.

Desna took a shaky step back, face alarmed. “Who  _ are _ you?”

“Desna, this  _ has _ to stop,” Ben pleaded, ignoring his question. “You’re hurting people.  _ Real _ people. People who are like your mother, and your great grandfather. Like your ancestors.”

“You don’t know my family,” he said, but it was shaky.

“You’re hurting  _ Matt _ .”

“I told Matt to run away.”

“He’s in there right now,” Ben pointed to the house. “He tried to warn his family.”

“He wouldn’t care about them!” Desna growled. “His dad is an asshole who abuses him!”

“And if he did run away?” Ben challenged. “Where would he go? If you killed his parents, where would he end up? He has no one else.”

“He has me.”

“He can’t legally stay with you, Desna. You’re both kids. He would end up in foster care and you wouldn’t see him again.”

Desna hesitated at that, and Ben felt a flutter of hope. Then the other boy’s features darkened. “You’re lying. You don’t want me to fulfill my destiny.”

“Is that what this is about?” Ben demanded, fear coursing through his veins. “Is this about avenging a bunch of dead people? Because that happened  _ years _ ago.”

“This is the sacred land of my people,” Desna argued. “I was born specifically to keep it sacred and pure, and to kill anyone who would desecrate it.”

“Yeah, that’s what me and my brother thought, too,” Ben said. Desna tilted his head. “We thought we were born to save the world, given super powers so we could protect the human race or whatever. But guess what?  _ It wasn’t real _ . None of it.”

“My prophecy is real!” 

“So you plan to keep the bloodshed going? You plan to kill and kill and kill whoever comes along, all because someone told you to? That’s your ‘destiny’? What about what  _ you _ want? What about Matt and the bug club?”

“I don’t have a choice!” Desna sobbed. “If I don’t do this, I’ll let down  _ everyone _ .”

“You  _ do _ have a choice!” Ben shouted. “Let the past be in the past! Go back home to your mother, go to school, date Matt,  _ be happy _ . You don’t have to let other people control your life.  _ You _ are the one who controls it!”

Desna was shaking at this point, his whole body shuddering. Ben wasn’t sure if it was from anger or sobs.

Finally, the glow began to dim from his eyes, leaving behind his shiny, black irises. “How do I stop it without ruining everything?”

Ben came forward, a warm smile on his face. “Let go of the hatred. Let go of expectations. What do  _ you _ want to do?”

Desna lowered his arms, the green beginning to fade. “I just want to talk to Matt about the Hercules Beetle . . .” He hiccupped. “And for the pressure everyone placed on me to  _ stop _ . I want to walk around the woods with Matt and talk about stupid stuff. I want to hold his hand. I don’t want to be the ‘miracle child’. I just want to be  _ me _ .”

Ben nodded encouragingly. “Then just be you. Hold Matt’s hand. Talk about stupid stuff. Just be a  _ kid _ . You don’t have to live the life that your ancestors forced on you.”

Desna bit his lip, and the glow finally faded. A few moments later, and the bug storm dissipated as well, flies scattering in the wind and creepy crawlies burying themselves back into the dirt or hiding themselves away in the crevices of the sidewalk. Desna took a deep, shuddering breath, and looked into Ben’s eyes.

“Thank you, Desna.”

As Ben was walking Desna towards the house, Klaus, Sam, and Dean came stumbling out the front door. Klaus raised his hands in victory.

“Go Ben! That’s my awesome little brother!”

Ben rolled his eyes. “We’re the same age, Klaus!”

What happened after that, Klaus should have seen coming from miles away. Regrettably, it was so much of a shock to him that he literally had to stop and just  _ breathe _ .

As soon as Matt and Desna saw one another, Matt ran to Desna and wrapped his arms around the taller boy. Desna sobbed into Matt’s shoulder and held him tight, as though he was afraid of letting go. Matt shushed him quietly and pet his hair soothingly. A string of apologies floated from Desna’s lips, but Matt just gently wiped away his tears.

Klaus’s heart felt like it was ripped from his chest and then stomped on. And then set on fire. And then stabbed multiple times. He was pretty sure his heart was being a dramatic bitch, but here he was.

Desna liked Matt. But Matt  _ liked Desna back _ .

He was so confused. How did that happen? Didn’t he and Matt have something going on? Who led who on? Was it all his imagination?

“I was going to tell you,” Ben said quietly to him. Klaus threw a glare at him. Ben pursed his lips. “We didn’t . . . I was afraid you’d get mad at me.”

“You should have told me,” Klaus spat. He didn’t like this feeling. He didn’t want this feeling. He wanted to carve out his chest and leave the hole bleeding until there was nothing left. “You . . . Why?”

Ben looked confused.

“Why?” Klaus hid his face in his hands. “Why does this always happen to me? Why can’t I ever be happy? What did I do to make the universe hate me so much?”

“Klaus . . .”

The worry and guilt in Ben’s tone made Klaus snap. “No. You know what?” Klaus glared at his brother. “Leave me alone.”

Ben squared his shoulders. “No. I’m not leaving you.”

“Go!”

“Never.”

“Leave!” Klaus slashed the air. Ben’s visage flickered, and his eyes widened in surprise. “Just go!”

He didn’t want to be hurt again. He didn’t want Ben to leave.  _ Please don’t ever leave me. Please don’t leave me all alone. I can’t go on without you. _

“I’m  _ not _ leaving,” Ben growled. “Get that in your thick,  _ stupid _ head. You’d literally have to banish me and sever the tether to get me to leave you.”

“I can,” Klaus said hysterically. “I can do exactly that.”

“You won’t,” Ben shook his head. He was so  _ sure _ of that, and that hurt Klaus all the more.

What a horrible brother he was.

“You’ll leave. You’ll leave me and I’ll be all alone and I  _ can’t _ \--”

“I won’t leave,” Ben said softly, coming closer. “I promise, Klaus. I won’t  _ ever _ leave.”

“You can’t promise me that,” Klaus cried. “You  _ can’t. _ ”

“I can. I’m dead, Klaus. I can do whatever I want.” He shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets. “So, deal with it. I’m glued to your side.”

And oh, did Klaus want that to be true. He clung to it like the selfish child he was, held that hope close to his heart. He could force Ben to stay, right? He had the power to do so.

But wouldn’t that hurt Ben?

“Ben--”

“ _ Deal with it _ .”

And that was that.

He wasn’t sure where along the line he had twisted Ben’s mind into liking him, but he held onto it so hard. It was terrible.

He was terrible.

“Come on,” Ben said, taking hold of his wrist and guiding him away from Matt and Desna. Klaus glanced back at them (Desna, curled up against Matt’s side on the curb, Matt holding tightly to his hand), but Ben just tugged on his hand and had him focus back in front. “Don’t look. It’ll only hurt more.”

Klaus nodded and rubbed at his face harshly to rid his cheeks of the salty tracks and his nose of the snot.

Sam met them half-way to the car, wrapping an arm around Klaus’s shoulders. Klaus leaned into him for support, burying his face shamefully into the man’s shoulder. Dean was waiting in the front seat of the Impala. He avoided looking Klaus’s way, and for some reason he was glad for it. If Dean saw him having a breakdown, he was pretty sure he would hate himself even more.

Well, if that was possible.

Sam helped Klaus into the backseat, draped Klaus’s only jackets over his shivering form (since when was he shivering?), and rounded the car to sit in his usual spot.

“Where to next?” Dean asked, turning the engine over.

“Just start driving,” Sam shrugged. “Far away.”

They did just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Desna attacks Matt and his family with a buggy tornado, and the Winchesters and co. are there to stop him. Ben, since he's dead, manages to get through the bug storm and convince him to stop. Desna admits that he doesn't want to be the prophecy child and just wants to be a kid. Matt and Desna hug it out. Klaus realizes that Matt has a thing for Desna in return, and has a breakdown. He demands that Ben leave him, but Ben is adamant that he won't, and Klaus is grateful for his family.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	31. I Filled the Holes and the Cracks In My Heart With Fancy High Heels and Plenty of Dresses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys decide to have a little break. Dean takes Klaus out for a night at the bar. Ben and Sam have a discussion about books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? What's this?  
> Another chapter here!  
> What's this?  
> The chapter's really weird.  
> What's this?  
> Missy is trying out new things because she's going nuts, it isn't fair!  
> WHAT'S THIS??
> 
> No warnings this chapter except that Klaus takes a shower with Ben present in the bathroom. Which is weird, but totally something they would do.

It had been days since they left Oklahoma in the rearview mirror, but Klaus was still moping around. Dean didn't understand (granted, he had never had a relationship longer than a few weeks, but this was like two  _ days _ \--). The welts they had from bug bites were slowly beginning to fade, so Klaus’s moping  _ had _ to be about Matt.

Which, to Dean’s credit, he wasn’t very uncomfortable about that.

Yes, he felt uncomfortable before when he first found out Klaus liked boys, but with Klaus it just felt . . . right? Klaus had a lot of strange things about him, but he was . . .  _ Klaus _ . Dean’s little brother in all but blood. A quirky teenager who liked wearing dresses and talked to ghosts. Him liking boys wasn’t the weirdest thing about him, and actually endeared him more to Dean.

Man, if Dad knew that Dean was thinking like this, he would have his hide tanned faster than he could say  _ sissy _ .

That was another thing. The unmanliness of it. While it was conflicting, he didn’t think of Klaus as less of a man. He more . . . felt like Klaus was just Klaus. Dean was afraid of being seen as less of a man, but Klaus didn’t worry about things like that. He just existed as he was and didn’t apologize for it.

It kind of made Dean a little jealous.

Of course, he would never, ever, say that out loud. Besides, that’s not what Klaus needed right now. What he needed was a distraction from his broken heart.

So, once they stopped at the nearest motel for the night, before Klaus could walk inside with his new duffle filled with his only belongings, Dean took him aside and asked, “Hey, you wanna go with me to the bar tonight?”

Klaus gaped at him. “Wh-What?”

“Yeah, I want to teach you how to hustle pool.”

“B-But I’m--”

“Sober,” Dean nodded seriously. “I know. And trust me, I wouldn’t have offered if I thought you couldn’t handle it.” He squeezed the kid’s shoulder. “I’ll allow two drinks for the night, and if you start getting antsy, we can leave immediately.”

Klaus swallowed heavily, hazel orbs growing watery. “I . . . Thank you. I would . . . I could really use a drink.” He huffed and rubbed at his nose. “What brought this up?”

“What, can’t hang out with my weirdo little brother?”

Klaus laughed at that, and a small tear escaped down his cheek. Dean ruffled his hair.

“It’ll be just you and me, a couple of beers, and some fools about to lose their money. What do you say?”

“No Ben or Sam?”

“Nope,” Dean shook his head. “No geeky little brothers.”

Klaus glanced to his side nervously, picking at his thumbnail. He brightened at something Ben said and drew his gaze back to Dean. “Ben says it’s a good idea. As long as I don’t go overboard with the beer, that is.”

Dean smiled as the kid buzzed with excitement. “Good. And don’t worry, Ben, I’ll keep a good eye on him.” Dean patted Klaus’s boney shoulder and gestured to the motel. “Go ahead and put your stuff inside and we can head out.”

Klaus ran into the motel room, passing a confused Sam. 

“What’s he in a hurry for?” Dean’s giant of a little brother joined him on the hood of Baby.

“We’re going to the bar,” Dean answered honestly. He chuckled when Sam gave him a wide eyed look. “What? He seemed like he needed it. Two drinks won’t hurt his sobriety.”

“No, but what if he relapses?” Sam asked. “Dipping his fingers back into vices might not be such a good idea, Dean.”

Dean raised a brow. “I’m willing to take that chance, if I can help at least a little with his first heartbreak.”

Sam pursed his lips.

“Look, Ben already said it would be alright. He’s the expert on all things Klaus.”

With a deep sigh, Sam looked at his feet. “Whatever, man. So I’m on ghost babysitting duty?”

“More like Ben’s going to be watching  _ you _ ,” Klaus said as he stepped back out. He changed into his red dress and his “Bad Bitch” jacket. Dean narrowed his eyes when he spotted lipgloss and some mascara as well.

“Where did you get make up?” Dean asked.

Klaus shrugged. “It was left in the bathroom. Whoever left it behind probably won’t care. It’s cheap.”

Dean frowned and pointed. “No seducing anyone at the bar.”

The kid rolled his eyes, the hazel irises looking larger due to the mascara. “Relax, Dean. I just wanted to look pretty for me.” He popped a hip and batted his lashes. “And don’t I?”

It was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yes, yes. Get in the car.”

Klaus waved to Sam and Ben, throwing them air kisses. “Au revoir my lovelies!”

Sam gave them a wave as they left the parking lot before he went back inside the motel.

As they pulled into the parking for the bar, Klaus became nervous. His lips dashed back and forth across his bottom lip, and his eyes kept trailing after some of the drunkards that were swaying out the door.

“Hey,” Dean said, drawing his attention to him. Dean grabbed the back of Klaus’s neck, massaging the area to calm the kid. It sort of worked. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“That’s just it,” Klaus swallowed. “I really,  _ really _ want to.”

Dean squeezed his neck gently. “We can do this another night. Or not at all, if you think it’s too much. Sam was talking about you relapsing, and we both don’t want that to happen.”

Klaus shook his head, black curls bouncing. “I don’t want that either, and that’s what’s making me so scared.”

“Well, I promise you here and now that I won’t let anything bad happen to you, and will keep the limit at only two.”

“I can be pretty sneaky,” Klaus tried. Dean just smirked.

“You think I don’t know all the tricks? I was your age once. If you try stealing something or grab another drink, I’ll stop you. If you try going anywhere except the bathroom without me, I’ll stop you. This is just meant to be a relaxing, fun evening, Klaus. An hour or two tops. Think you can handle it?”

Klaus bit his lip, and Dean was just about to tell him that he was messing up his gloss when Klaus said, “Okay. You  _ promise _ ? And you’ll make sure that if I start getting a little too crazy, we leave?”

“Cross my heart and scouts honor and all that,” Dean swore.

Klaus smiled, small at first, then it grew. “Yeah, okay. It’s not a club, it’s just a bar. I can handle a bar.”

With a giddy twirl of his hand, Klaus exited the car and Dean followed suit. Rock music filtered through the windows and front door of the bar, and it sounded like there was a competition of some sort going on inside. Dean breathed in deep, taking in the smell of man sweat, alcohol, and sickly sweet perfume. He was in his element.

“Just one thing,” Klaus said before they entered. Dean tilted his head at him. “I have no idea how to play pool.”

Sam was reading through Dad’s journal while Ben read Fellowship of the Ring on one of the beds. It was peaceful, quiet, but Sam couldn’t help the sense of foreboding he had. Not about Klaus and Dean, surprisingly, but he was a tad concerned there, too. No, he just felt as though something incredibly  _ wrong _ was going to happen, and soon.

He didn’t like it. It reminded him too much of the time before . . .

Nope. Not going there.

He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, getting a closer look at the specter his father had drawn on the page. Dad’s artworks were quite beautiful and highly accurate to each monster they had ever fought. He remembered when he and Dean were little, Dad would always be scribbling away in his journal, documenting all that they had witnessed or he had heard or  _ anything _ , really. It was an impressive amount of information on the unnatural, and the fact that Dad left it in Dean’s care was something  _ huge _ .

“You know,” Ben said, startling Sam. He forgot he was there. He was so quiet, and he didn’t have to breathe . . . It was kind of unnerving sometimes. “I can’t quite understand what’s so important about that journal.”

"Well, other than it belonging to our dad?"

Ben huffed. "Don't get cheeky with me now. I'm curious."

Sam chuckled. "It's basically everything about anything relating to stuff that goes bump in the night. My dad recorded  _ everything _ . It has information relating to just about all types of creatures and in precise detail. He also has records of places, times, and people that he's saved or come across. Shoot, there's a whole section dedicated to other hunters, psychics, and mediums that he's been in contact with, and how to reach them."

"Sounds invaluable," Ben hummed. He seemed lost in thought when he said, "Reminds me of somebody."

Sam sat there awkwardly, fingering one of the pages and not sure how to continue the conversation. Ben kind of checked out, his visage barely there.

"What part have you gotten to?" Sam asked, hoping to keep the spirit in the room. Despite how creepy he could be, Ben was great company, and Sam wasn't sure that he wanted to be alone right now.

Ben predictably perked up, and he excitedly went into detail about a character named Tom Bombadil (whoever that was) and what Frodo and Sam were doing (he did know them, vaguely. He wasn't on the fantasy side of nerdiness).

Sam listened patiently, interested despite himself, and asking appropriate questions at the right times. Getting a play-by-play of one of the kid's favorite books from his point of view was fun. 

Ben absorbed every word he read, and had an excellent memory. He could quote just about every line from the book . . . in three different languages. Two of which were fantasy languages. Sam had asked if he could read and write in them too, to which the teen answered that he was still practicing elvish since it was much more difficult than the blocky and simple text of dwarvish.

"I just wish I had the last book, too," Ben said, sounding wistful. "I have the first one, now, and died with the second, but I never got to read the last one while I was still alive."

"You don't know how it ends?"

Ben shook his head. "And since I lived in a mansion that didn't allow access outside, I didn't have to worry about spoilers." He winked. "I wish I did know, though. It's been eating at me for months."

"Where does the second one end?"

"I'm not telling," Ben smirked. "Read it for yourself."

Sam pouted, but complied. "Fine. Maybe we could get a book club going."

Ben grinned wide. "You think?"

Sam returned the smile. "Should be doable enough in between cases."

"Klaus would hate it."

"Dean would think it's nerdy as hell."

"Let's just do it for the sake of annoying them," Ben snickered.

“Agreed,” Sam chuckled.

Ben flipped the page in his book. “I suppose since we move around a lot, you won’t be able to get a library card.”

“No, not really.”

“Guess you’ll have to borrow my book,” Ben decided. “Just treat it with respect, please.”

“Of course,” Sam nodded. “I wouldn’t do anything with it except to read.”

“Good.”

“I guess that also means that I’ll have to buy the last book, too,” Sam hedged.

Ben looked up, face soft. “Yeah?”

Sam shrugged. “We can’t have a book club unless we have all the books, right?”

“Yeah,” Ben huffed, elation clear in his features. He didn’t react bodily, other than pulling his book closer, but Sam assumed that was because he didn’t have a respiratory system to make him jittery. “Thanks, Sam.”

It was late by the time Klaus and Dean got back to the motel. Klaus had his second beer in hand, wanting to savor it, but there were only a few more sips left. He was only slightly buzzed, not nearly as drunk as he wanted to be, but it helped a lot. After being stone cold sober for months, having a drink was like heaven. 

He drowned his sorrows in a bottle, and Dean was there to make sure he didn’t fall off the wagon. He was really, really grateful for it.

Pool was . . . an interesting game. He was a lot more observant than people gave him credit for, and the two hustled a lot more money than Dean was capable on his own. Klaus could play the fool well, and the  _ drunk _ fool even better. He lured people in like moths to a flame, and the ones who were too cocky fell before his feet.

Klaus didn’t want to brag, but pool was a lot easier than he thought it would be. It was just simple math and hand-eye coordination. Five would be able to give all the equations, but Klaus didn’t need to think too hard about it.

The only thing he was upset about was that he could have been doing this long before he started using more . . . unethical ways to get money. Not that hustling was much better, but Ben would find it incredibly better than some of the things he did before.

Dean opened the motel door and the two tried to be quiet to not wake Sam, the giant of a man sprawled out across the bed, one arm tucked in over his stomach. Klaus cooed at the sight.

“Awe, isn’t he adorable?”

Dean snorted. “Sure. You go ahead and wash up first while I clean up a bit.” He gestured to the mess of papers and the open journal on the table. Klaus gave a mock salute and trudged into the small bathroom.

Ben was already in there when he came in. Klaus jumped. “Jeez, Benny! Warn a guy!”

“Sorry,” Ben didn’t sound sorry at all. Klaus pouted. “How was your night?"

"Fantastisch!" Klaus did a graceful spin. "I got complimented a lot. I think Dean called it catcalling? He wasn’t too happy about it, especially since a lot of the guys that did it thought I was a girl.” He took off his jacket. “Pool is fun. You should try it sometime.”

“Maybe later,” Ben huffed.

“Whatcha doin’ in here?” Klaus said as he began to strip. He didn’t have any make up remover, so he’d just try his best to wash it all out in the shower. “Didn't think you were one to ogle the goods,” he winked and posed naked in front of his brother.

“Gross,” Ben stuck out his tongue, but they both knew he didn’t care. Ben had seen Klaus naked before plenty of times. Hell, all the Umbrella kids had. Klaus was just a free spirit, and they got used to it pretty quick.

Klaus turned on the shower, humming to himself while he waited for it to get at least a little warmer than “freezing your ass off”.

“Sam wants to read with me,” Ben said, hopping up onto the back of the toilet. He let his feet dangle at the sides. “He hasn’t read the Lord of the Rings, and was interested when I talked about it.”

“Oh no, you’re converting him,” Klaus teased. Ben gave him the finger.

“I came in here because I didn’t want to disturb him while he was asleep. He has nightmares all the time, and I was afraid that he would lose the little good sleep he’s gotten in ages if I stayed in there.”

“So you decided to creep in the bathroom?” Klaus asked. “You know you can just turn yourself invisible, right?”

Ben blushed, and Klaus had to physically hold in his laughter by covering his lips before it tumbled out. Ben did not, in fact, think of that.

“I’m thinking you’re forgetting that you’re a ghost.”

Ben shrugged helplessly. “It’s been almost seven months. I’ve gotten pretty used to it.”

That sobered Klaus. Had it really been that long since his baby brother died? That was more than half a year. More than half a year of poor, sweet, innocent Ben being subjected to hanging around Klaus or being lost in a cold, dark void.

Klaus stepped into the shower to keep from saying something or doing something rash. He scrubbed at his body fervently, wanting every part of him clean.

_ Just like how you’d help Ben after a bad mission-- _

_ Just like how you cleaned yourself raw after his death-- _

_ Your fault, your fault, your fault-- _

_ Seven months since he died-- _

_ Seven months of being with  _ no good, junkie, useless, pointless, worthless, hopeless,  _ Klaus _ \--

“I think you should call Vanya tomorrow,” Ben interrupted his spiralling thoughts. He gasped, the bar of soap slipping from his fingers and falling to the floor.

As he reached down to pick it up, he answered shakily, “But it’s not the weekend.”

“So? You made a promise to call each weekend, yes, but you can call her whenever you’d like in between. You aren’t limited to a certain amount of talk time with her.”

Klaus placed the bar of soap back in it’s holder, pondering that. Ben was  _ right _ , of course. He always was. But Klaus was nervous to talk to Vanya after what happened recently. He didn’t want to unload his problems on her, and he wasn’t sure if he could avoid it when her calm, soothing voice spoke over the line. Which was absolutely ridiculous because his mousey sister always gave time to talk whenever someone wanted.

He didn’t want to think about the implications of that.

“Klaus?”

“I’m here,” Klaus said, finally turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. Ben handed him a towel.

“So?”

“So what?”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Are you going to talk to her?”

Klaus paused, towel halfway to his curls. “Why don’t . . . why don’t we let  _ you _ talk with her?” He said instead. “She believed me last time when I said that I could see you all the time. Maybe we can step it up a notch?”

Ben froze, tan face growing pallid. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m still  _ dead _ , Klaus, and she’s going to freak out if I can suddenly talk to her.”

“No, but we tell her beforehand! That I’m practicing with my powers and I’m able to make the dead part of the real world.”

“I still think she would have a hard time.” Ben hid himself in his shoulders. “She--and all the others--kind of put me on a pedestal when I died. I was perfect in their minds, the quiet, bookish Ben that could do no wrong. I was a saint. They forgot that I killed people. Lots of people.”

And . . . yeah, they  _ did _ put Ben up high in their hearts. Even Klaus. But . . . that was just  _ Ben _ . Ben was sweet and knew how to help the others emotionally. He gave the best hugs. He was a quiet companion who listened and did his best.

Would talking to Vanya really be a bad thing?

“I think you’re forgetting something, Ben,” Klaus said. Ben locked gazes. “You’re her  _ brother _ . Her  _ dead _ brother. Who she’s been missing for seven months. Mourning, even. I think that you should talk to her, and tell her that you love her, and all that gushy stuff. She might really need it.” He sighed. “I know that you, Five, and her were all really close. Five vanished, and you died. She didn’t have anyone else.”

“She had you.”

“And look at what I did,” Klaus huffed a self-deprecating laugh. “I left her, too. Waltzed right out the door to the streets to get high, didn’t contact her for  _ months _ , and focused on my hellish life and ignored her.”

Ben bit his lip, and Klaus knew he couldn’t argue with that.

“But you  _ did _ contact her,” Ben finally said. Klaus’s heart squeezed. “You reached out to her, and cared about her.”

“Only after I found out a bunch of hunters were on a murder spree for anyone born with powers.”

“So?” Ben tilted his head. “That means you still love her. You worried about her, because she could be targeted despite her lacking in an ability. I think you don’t give yourself enough credit, Klaus.”

“Says the one who won’t pick up the phone.”

Ben blushed. “That’s different.”

“It really isn’t.”

“Klaus--”

“I just think you’re being a hypocrite here,” Klaus wrapped the towel around his midsection and headed for the door. “You preach to me that I should have more faith in myself when you don’t even--”

He stopped when he opened the door, not expecting a pale, sweaty Sam to gasp and leap from his bed like it was on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Expect a chapter tomorrow as well (though it will probably be uploaded late).  
> Shoutout to the people who keep me going with delicious comments cuz omg I eat them up like a starving man in the desert.  
> Spicy_Cannoli_AKA_Lia  
> imjusthereforspn  
> Lagt  
> Whatisthiswhatamidoing  
> I_dont_have_a_name_yet  
> Gay Goddess  
> Micah_Nightmare
> 
> Bless you all <3


	32. Welcome to the Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's dreams become reality. Klaus is depressed. Ben is going insane (but not in the way you think).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies! I listened to an unhealthy amount of Disney music while writing this, lol  
> Please let me know if something needs to be fixed!  
> <3

Sam was standing outside a lovely, suburban home, shoes scuffing asphalt. Above, stars glittered in an endless, navy sky. A large, dead tree stood out front, its barren branches waving at him, beckoning him to draw closer.

Screaming. Thumping. Sam looked up into the windows of the house. A woman, blonde, face twisted in terror, slammed her hands on the glass. She screamed for help. Sam couldn’t move.

The woman glanced behind her, hair flying wildly. It seemed to happen in slow motion. Her piercing wails haunted the night.

The tree remained stoic and sturdy, too far away to aid her distress.

She disappeared from the window, and Sam’s heart thudded wildly in his chest. With a shout, he lurched forward, but the scene was gone.

In its place was a dark motel room, the covers from his bed strewn on the floor. He panted heavily, sweat soaking through his nightshirt.

“Sam?” a soft, tentative voice called to him. He whipped around, muscles tensing for an attack.

Klaus skittered back, bare chest heaving. He only wore a white towel around his waist. He must have just gotten out of the shower. “S-Sam?”

Sam brushed his bangs away from his eyes, swallowing and trying to get back in control. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Klaus said. He held up his hands in a placating manner. “Are you okay?”

The older nodded, dropping back onto the bed. “Yeah, just had a really bad . . .”

“Nightmare?” Klaus finished. Sam nodded again. “That can’t be healthy, dude.”

Sam snorted. “You have nightmares almost every night.”

“Do I look like the picture of health to you?” he gestured to himself, then sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Sam gripped his bicep and squeezed, hard, in an attempt to ground himself. That had felt way too real. Like the time with Jessica. He didn’t like the fact that it seemed like it was literally happening.

That awful sense of foreboding came back.

He needed to find out who that woman was, and fast.

"Sammy?"

Sam flicked his gaze towards the motel door, Dean standing there with lowered brows.

"You okay?"

"Bad dream."

"Yeah, I gathered that." He closed the door behind him and came more fully into the room. "Wanna talk about it?"

Sam hesitated. While it was one thing to talk to Klaus about this, given that he was the younger sibling, it was another thing entirely when it was Dean. Dean was the older brother, the one Sam had always turned to when he had a bad dream or if he was scared about something. Dean always comforted him and made it all better. Dean was the one he could always rely on.

Not that he couldn’t rely on Klaus, but he didn’t want to burden the teen when he already had a lot to deal with.

He glanced to Klaus and back to Dean, knowing the elder would understand. He did, and within seconds Dean had ushered Sam into the bathroom, leaving a hurt-looking Klaus behind. Sam gave him a small smile before Dean closed the door.

"Alright, man, tell me what's going on," Dean worriedly crossed his arms. "Is this about Jess again?"

And suddenly, Sam's mouth had gone dry and his words got all jumbled. He couldn't just  _ tell _ Dean, right? What if it went south? What if Dean called him a freak or a monster or something? He didn't know if he could handle that.

While Sam stumbled, Dean waited him out. He always patiently waited for Sam to gather together what he needed to say, and usually it worked. Right now, though, he wasn’t so sure this was a good plan after all.

“Sam?” Dean eventually asked, worry clear in his features now.

That’s what really broke Sam. Dean didn’t like to show his emotions, unless it was extreme. Sam took in a long, deep breath. He needed Dean’s help, and the first step had to be his willingness to share.

“I . . . have these bad dreams sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Dean said, but it wasn’t with humor. Just with understanding. Sam was grateful for it.

“And sometimes . . . they come true.”

Klaus changed into his sleep clothes in silence (his tank top and a pair of shorts that Dean let him borrow) while Ben paced.

“Why wouldn’t he want to tell you, too?” Ben asked. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Klaus shrugged listlessly. “I don’t know, Ben. Maybe because I’m a weirdo? He doesn’t trust me? I’m an addict? There’s any number of reasons.”

Ben shook his head. “No, no. He trusts you a lot, I’d say more so than Dean trusts you. And you’ve been sober for months now.”

He laughed humorlessly. “I just went out for drinks with Dean. You’re not inspiring confidence here, buddy.”

“You’re still sober, Klaus, you just went out for some fun.”

“And yet here we are, Sam not wanting to tell me something important to him.”

“That’s just it. It makes no sense,” Ben tugged on his hair, a habit he picked up from Klaus. Klaus wondered what other things he picked up from him, or if he picked up anything from Ben.

“What makes no sense, the fact that he thinks I’m no longer trustworthy because I’m not really sober?”

“No, the fact that he won’t tell you period. You’re highly trustworthy to them. Sam was upset about you going out to drink and everything. He loves you.”

Klaus raised his brows. “Wow, okay. I don’t think it’s  _ that _ serious.”

Ben scowled. “You’re not getting it. These two treat you like family. There must be something else going on.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s worried telling you might hurt you? Or maybe him telling you will cause some sort of damage.”

“Or he doesn’t trust me.”

Ben made a frustrated noise. “Shut up about that!”

Klaus raised his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying.”

Ben continued to pace, and Klaus continued to mope on the bed. And the night had been so great beforehand.

“I could spy on them,” Ben suggested.

“I’m pretty sure that would be a breach of their trust.”

“I know,” Ben whined. “I just don’t understand how he could tell Dean and not you too.”

“Well, they’re also  _ actual _ brothers by blood. I just happened to stumble into them.”

Ben bit his lip.

“Wait a minute,” Klaus stood. “I think I know what this is. You’re curious about what they’re talking about and you want so badly to listen in that you’re making up a reason to do it.”

“No.” Ben frowned. “I really am upset that he won’t share with you.”

“And  _ you _ . Come on, Ben. You’ve always been one to want to know everything. You’ve always been super nosey. Being left out of something bothers you to no end.”

“So?”

“So you admit it?”

“Yes,” Ben threw his hands in the air. “Does me admitting it make you happy?”

“Extremely.”

“Ugh,” Ben groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Look, you and I have both grown really close to Sam and Dean lately. You especially. I do want to know because I’m  _ worried _ .”

“I am too,” Klaus said. “But if he doesn’t want me to know, then I guess it’s not up to me to decide.”

“You still feel hurt about it.”

“Of course I do. I thought he had more faith in me.”

“This might be a really serious issue.”

“All the more reason to share with me. But I get it, I do. Who would want to talk to worthless  _ Klaus _ .”

Ben stopped his pacing and glared at him. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Oh stop. It’s always been true. Even you thought so.”

“That was back then. I know you now.”

Klaus let it drop for now. No need to dig up old hurts. “Whatever. What’s stopping you from entering the bathroom and pretending like you didn’t hear it?”

“Because I want them to trust me, too,” Ben answered honestly. “Sometimes, late at night, I startle one of them and their immediate reaction is to go for the salt. Sometimes, when I appear from nowhere, they reach for a gun or a knife. I know it won’t happen right away, and I have to be louder when I approach, but still . . .”

Klaus thought about that. Sam and Dean literally hunted things like Ben. It was in their instinct to kill ghosts and to be wary around the supernatural. When they first met, Sam and Dean had wanted to get rid of Ben because they were afraid that he would turn on Klaus, and Klaus had to fight to keep Ben at his side. He didn’t think that there would be some subconscious level to that.

“I want them to trust you, too,” Klaus said. He wished Ben were still alive all the more. That way Sam and Dean didn’t have to constantly check to make sure Ben was in the room before they salted the doors and windows. That way they didn’t have to worry about a ghost looming over them while they slept. That way they saw Ben as just Ben, and not a friendly ghost.

He wondered if there was a way to bring Ben back, or if his brother was doomed to live his afterlife like this.

“Come again?” Dean became guarded, expression going from concerned to blank in a flash.

Sam panicked. “Uh, just kidding. Nope.” Bad idea, bad idea. He went to escape the room, but Dean blocked the door.

“Uh-uh,” Dean held up a finger. “You are explaining everything to me. Right now.”

Sam, feeling cornered, did as he was told. “Look, Dean, you gotta believe me about this. I . . . I dreamt about Jessica’s death for days before it happened.”

Dean huffed, thinking it was a joke, and his shoulders relaxed. “Sane people have weird dreams, Sam. I’m sure it was a coincidence.”

“No,” Sam shook his head, wondering how he could convince his brother of this. “No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything because I didn’t believe it.” His voice cracked and he looked down. “Now I’m having dreams about a woman trapped in a house, screaming for help. And it’s different from other dreams because this feels  _ real _ . As real as  _ Jess _ . That has to mean something, right?”

“I-I don’t know . . .” Dean leaned against the door, and Sam could see his mind whirling as his eyes darted about.

“This woman might be in danger,” Sam said, working himself up. “We have to find her. We have to  _ help _ her.”

“And where would we start looking, huh?” Dean asked. “All you have is a house, right?”

“And a tree.”

“A tree?”

“Yeah,” Sam looked for something to draw with, and found Klaus’s mascara. He began to draw on the palm of his hand a vague looking outline of the specific, dead tree he saw in his dream. “It looked something like this.”

He flipped his hand around for Dean to see, and Dean paled. “I’ve seen that tree from somewhere before.”

“You have?”

Dean didn’t say more, just opened the door and walked out of the room. Sam followed, curious and worried about what Dean meant.

“Dean?”

Klaus was sitting on his bed, but he stood when they reentered the room. “Hey, guys. Something wrong?”

Dean didn’t answer. He walked out of the motel room. Sam stood in silence next to Klaus, stunned that his brother would just  _ leave _ like that.

The panic set in. This was it. Dean thought he was crazy or some kind of monster and was leaving him. Dean didn’t want to be around him any more. Soon, it would be Klaus and Ben, too, and then he’d be all alone. He shouldn’t have said anything. He shouldn’t have brought it up.

Sam barely registered that he had fallen to his knees, stinging eyes and the twist in his gut the only pain he felt. He found it incredibly difficult to breathe.

Everyone would leave him. He was a freak. He would never be normal.

“Sam!” Thin, pale arms wrapped themselves securely around his shivering shoulders. Cold fingers trailed along his cheeks, until his eyes met hazel ones. “Sam, can you hear me?”

Klaus. Right. He was still here. Sam gripped Klaus’s arms in a death grip and  _ breathed _ .

“Good, good, keep doing that. I hear Dean in the trunk of the car. I’m sure he’ll be back soon and everything will be okay.”

Dean was . . . still here? He hadn’t left?

At his confused look, Klaus’s eyes shone with sorrow. “Oh, Sam. He didn’t leave us.”

Sam took a few more deep breaths, and then Dean came back.

“Sammy?” Dean rushed to his side and took over for Klaus. Dean’s warm, strong hands cupped Sam’s cheeks. “Sam?”

“Dean.” Sam sighed and scrambled to take hold of his wrists. “I-I thought . . . You walked out and . . . I thought you . . .”

“Never,” Dean swore. He held Sam’s face tighter. “ _ Never _ , Sam. I just went to get Dad’s journal.”

Sam laughed sharply at that, his confusing brain turning to mush. Dean hadn’t left. He was just grabbing something from the car.

“Here, give me your hand?”

Sam complied, showing Dean the tree he had drawn on his hand. It was smudged a little, but the basic outline was the same. Dean rifled through Dad’s stuff until he found a picture of their family. Mom, Dad, and him and Dean. Sam was an infant in the photo, no more than a few months. Dean was about four. There, behind them, stood the exact same tree. Sam’s eyes widened.

“Our old house. The house Mom died in. The house didn’t burn down. Not completely anyway, right? They rebuilt it,” Sam said.

Dean’s lips pinched together.

“Then, maybe the woman lives there, now, and she’s in danger.”

“I don’t know, Sam.”

“Well, we have to find out!” Sam sprung to his feet, pacing while he thought aloud. “I mean, this has got to be something huge. First Jessica, and now this? And it’s tied to our old house? What if this is the thing that killed Mom and Jess?”

“Alright, just slow down, will you?” Dean stood abruptly, turning away from Sam. Sam deflated, eyes searching his brother. He seemed anxious, concerned, and tense. Dean chuckled humorlessly as he moved around the room, facing Sam again. “I mean, first you tell me you got the  _ Shining _ . . .?”

Sam pursed his lips and looked down, Klaus confusedly looking between the two. 

“And then I find out that we gotta go back home, especially when . . .” Dean leaned against the table for support. “When I swore to myself that I’d never go back there?”

Guilt flooded him. Dean’s lip trembled, and he looked away before he could let his feelings show to the room. Klaus placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder for support, and Sam felt incredibly grateful.

“Look, Dean, we have to check this out,” Sam said softly. “Just to make sure.”

Dean bit his lip, then said, “I know we do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I know I say it every time, but if no one read this I would be very sad ;-; So I gotta thank y'all as much as I can


	33. Old Habits Die Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive at the old house in Lawrence, Kansas. Sam is getting fired up, Klaus is frightened by what he finds in the house, and Dean is drowning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! With all that's going on, my mental health has been a mess! I'm just glad I was able to get this out, tbh. My grades are slipping ;-;

They didn’t wait, packing their things and driving towards Lawrence, Kansas that night. The whole time, Dean was wired and antsy with the knowledge that he was doing the exact thing that he told himself he wouldn’t do. He wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight after all.

Sam was describing his dream in detail in the seat next to him (and it was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that maybe his brother was a  _ psychic _ ), while Klaus was nodding off in the backseat, leaning against Ben. They told him to rest, but Klaus was determined to stay awake and listen to what Sam had to say. Ben seemed pretty interested, too, eyes laser focused on Sam.

“So you’re saying that you have powers of seeing the future?” Ben asked.

“I mean, I don’t know. It really feels like that’s the case,” Sam tapped on his knee, trying to calm himself a little.

“And you’re twenty-two, right?”

“Yeah, pretty sure I am,” he huffed.

“Huh,” Ben pursed his lips. “Because if I didn’t know better, I would say it’s possible that you’re one of the thirty-six.”

Sam shook his head. “No.” He twisted around. “But, I’m really grateful that we met you guys beforehand. It made it easier to want to tell my secret.”

Klaus’s smile was strained, and Ben’s was broad. “Well, when you have a freak with you all hours of every day, it’s a little less freaky to have powers when someone else already does.” Klaus sniffed.

Sam grinned. “Well, now the freak is Dean.”

“We’re like the Munsters,” Dean agreed, though his nerves were still on fire. “I’m Marilyn.”

Sam chuckled at the joke, but Klaus and Ben had no idea what he was talking about.

“Geez, we really need to get you two cultured, beyond Lord of the Rings.”

“Excuse you,” Klaus feigned offence. “I am  _ very _ cultured.”

“Sure you are. Name one character from Star Trek. Or Star Wars. Or, hell, any TV series.”

“Okay, that’s not fair. I was drunk or drugged up throughout my childhood. Doesn’t count.”

“My point exactly.”

“Scooby-Doo?” Ben offered. “That was a character from a show, right?”

Dean gave him that one. “It’s in the title, though.”

“It’s the best I can give you,” Ben blushed.

Sam seemed much more relaxed, and that helped a little with Dean’s anxiety. “Well, looks like we’re done talking for now. Why don’t you go ahead and sleep, Klaus? You look about ready to pass out.”

Silence from the back, then a snort from Ben. “He’s already out.” Ben adjusted Klaus in his arms and fussed with his brother’s jacket so Klaus was fully covered.

“So, what did you and your family do once you discovered you had powers, Ben?” Sam asked. “How  _ did _ you find out?”

Ben froze, glancing away from the man. Dean tensed up again. “I don’t think you want to know that, Sam,” he said. “But, Klaus and I will help you through what you’re going through now. Promise.” He smiled sincerely.

Sam nodded, realizing that he had touched on something he shouldn’t have. Just how awful were their lives before now? They knew a lot, enough to want to throttle Reginald to hell and back, but if there was more they weren’t telling . . .

“We were kids,” Ben reminded them. “I’m glad that the abilities that you have came later in life, where you’re more stable as a person.”

Sam huffed and gave Ben a large smile. “Thanks, Ben.”

Ben smiled back, then faded from their view.

Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter, feeling like he was being swallowed in an overwhelming ocean.

By the time the sun peeked over the horizon, Dean was pulling up to their old house. Ben could tell that Dean was  _ not _ happy to be here, hands shaking as he stuffed them into pockets and eyes shifting around the area tensely. His face was grim, the lines around his mouth deepened by the frown marring his handsome features.

Sam, on the other hand, was a ball of nervous energy, gaze focused solely on the house. Determination poured off of him in waves, and he stepped up towards the house without hesitation.

Klaus, along with Ben, worriedly followed them. Ben hoped this trip wouldn’t be bad on anyone’s mental health.

Dean took the initiative to knock on the door, as usual, and he squared his shoulders in preparation for what came.

A woman with long blonde hair and a red jacket opened the door. She smiled pleasantly at them, though curiosity shone through. “Yes?”

“Hi, ma’am, we’re with the--”

Sam cut Dean off, “I’m Sam Winchester. These are my brothers, Dean and Klaus. We used to live here.”

The woman glanced over each of them, Ben hidden from her view. Ben noticed that Sam was staring at the woman with the intensity of the sun.

“I think this might be the woman from his vision thingy,” Klaus whispered to him. He nodded, getting a better look at her.

She didn’t look too different from most Caucasian women. Her nails were clipped to the bed, though, which he found odd. Her fingers were calloused, too, skin dry and cracked along her knuckles.

“You know, we were--we were just driving by,” Sam said, “and we were wondering if we could see the old place.”

“Winchester,” the woman opened the door more fully, a contemplative look in her eye. “That is so funny. I-I think I found some of your photos the other night.”

“You did?” Dean asked.

The woman looked back into the house, then waved her hand. “Come on in.”

Sam pointedly looked at Dean, and Dean pursed his lips. They all shuffled into the house, but Klaus and Ben stopped at the threshold. Ben, because Klaus stopped and all color drained from his face. And Klaus . . .

“Klaus?”

Klaus swayed and set his hand on the wall for support. 

“Klaus.”

Ben reached forward, but Klaus waved a hand. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he whispered. Sam and Dean had already moved further into the house, not having noticed Klaus’s dilemma. 

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just . . .” Klaus ran a hand down his jeans. “There’s something here. I can’t tell you, because I  _ don’t _ want it to see me.”

Ben’s eyes widened, and he glanced around. “Where? I don’t see or feel anything.”

Klaus made a vague gesture around the house. “It’s just  _ here _ .” He swallowed heavily and straightened. “I’m going to stop talking about it now.” He moved ahead to catch up with Sam and Dean.

Dean raised a brow when Klaus entered the room, and Klaus gave him a shaky smile and a look that said  _ I’ll tell you later _ . He better tell later, because Ben had no idea what was going on.

“Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and Klaus,” the woman introduced. Ben took in the dining room, noticing a toddler with a bottle of juice and a little girl sitting at the table with homework spread out. Klaus gave a polite wave to the girl, and she shyly waved back. Ben assumed she was Sari. “They used to live here.”

“Hi,” Sari said with a small smile.

Dean gave her a tight smile and a quick wave, and Sam smiled softly and said, “Hey, Sari.”

“So you just moved in?” Dean asked the woman, to the point. Ben leaned against a counter and observed the interactions closely.

“Uh, yeah, from Wichita,” the woman said, grabbing her previously discarded rag and continuing to clean the table around Sari.

“You got family here, or . . .?”

“No, I just, uh . . .” she looked down. “Um . . . needed a fresh start. That’s all”

Ben pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. Something to do with the husband, then. Abuse? Death? Something bad had happened.

“So, new town,” she went on with a bright smile. “New job--I mean, as soon as I can find one. New house.”

She took the rag and a dirty plate to the sink, and Ben watched her intently. She didn’t mind three strange men coming into her house where her children were, so perhaps not abuse. In fact, it was a bit sketchy that she trusted them so easily. 

“So, how are you liking it so far?” Sam asked.

The woman turned about and ran a wet hand through her hair. “Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home--I mean, I’m sure you have a lot of happy memories here--”

Dean’s jaw tightened and his smile grew incredibly strained. Ben noticed how he hid a wince behind a nod.

“But this place has its issues.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just getting old, like, the wiring, you know?” She propped her hip on the counter. “We’ve got flickering lights almost hourly.”

Once again, Ben saw how Klaus had to lean against the wall for support.

“Oh, well, that’s too bad,” Dean said. “What else?”

“Um . . . sink’s backed up. There’s rats in the basement.” She paused when she saw Dean’s more negative expression. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.”

“No,” Dean shook his head, and the smile came back. “Have you seen the rats? Or just heard the scratching?”

“Just the scratching, actually,” she twisted the rag in her hand.

“Mom?” Sari asked, putting her pencil down. The woman came over to lean down next to her daughter. Sam and Dean shared a look. “Ask them if it was here when they lived here.”

Ben stood up straighter.

“What, Sari?” Sam asked, concerned attention directly on the little girl.

“The thing in my closet,” Sari whispered.

“Oh, no baby,” the woman said, reaching out to push her daughter’s bangs aside. “There was nothing in their closets. Right?” She looked up to the boys.

“Right, no, of course not,” Sam shook his head, but he had a worried face when he glanced to Dean.

“She had a nightmare the other night,” the woman said.

“I wasn’t dreaming,” Sari insisted. “It came into my bedroom, and it was on fire.”

Sam and Dean reacted to that, both of them staring right at each other with wide eyes. Klaus winced, turning from the room and moving away.

Ben was quick to follow his brother, brows furrowed. “Klaus, wait!”

Klaus didn’t wait, strolling right out the front door and far away from the house, until he was across the street and back to the car. He leaned into Baby and just . . . breathed. Ben worriedly took his arm.

“Klaus?”

“I’ll be okay, Ben,” Klaus said. “I just . . . really don’t want to be in there any longer. Not unless I have to be.”

“It’s alright,” Ben squeezed. “What happened?”

Klaus chuckled. “I’ll tell all of you when the other two come back.”

“Okay.”

It wasn’t a long wait. Sam and Dean came out of the house swiftly, Sam gesticulating as he spoke. “A figure on  _ fire _ .”

“And Jenny was the woman in your dreams?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, and you heard what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights. Both signs of a malevolent spirit.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just freaked out that your weirdo visions are coming true.”

“Well, forget about that!” Sam gestured back to the house. “The thing in the house, do you think it’s the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?”

“I don’t know!” Dean grit out, stress practically tangible.

“Has it come back, or has it been here the whole time?”

“Or maybe it’s something else entirely, Sam,” Dean said, stopping next to Klaus and Ben. “We don’t know yet.”

“Well those people are in danger, Dean,” Sam said, voice near pleading. “We have to get them out of that house.”

“We will.”

“No, I mean now.”

“And how you gonna do that, huh?” Dean demanded, snapping at last. Ben wanted to keep the peace, but the tension was so thick that he worried that doing anything other than silently watching would explode something. “You got a story that she’s gonna believe?”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Sam shouted.

“Guys!” Klaus stepped in, then, arms outstretched between them and body shaking minutely. Sam and Dean startled, both taking small steps away from him, and, consequently, each other. “Stop it. We’ll get to the bottom of this. Just treat it like any other hunt you’ve been on.”

Sam bit his lip and his eyes darted to his feet. Dean crossed his arms.

“Now then,” Klaus took a deep breath. “Sam’s right, we need to get that family out of there as soon as possible.”

Sam went to say something, but Klaus held up a hand. “I’m not done. Dean is  _ also _ right in that we have no clue what’s going on. Not really. There’s definitely a really bad, really ugly spirit in there. I also sensed another presence. Who knows how many more things are in there?” He sighed. “We just need to take a moment to  _ relax _ and figure stuff out. What would be the first step in doing any other hunt?”

“Learn the history of the place,” Sam said. 

“Except this time we already know what happened,” Dean said.

“And what is that?” Klaus asked. “We need every detail.”

Dean looked uncomfortable, but Sam shook his head. “I doubt we could tell you anything more than what the police filed it as. I was a baby, Dean no more than four.”

“Actually . . .” Dean ran a hand through his hair. “I do remember some stuff. The fire. The heat. I carried Sam out the front door.”

“You did?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. What, you never knew that?”

“No . . .” Sam’s brows came together.

“And, uh . . . Well, Mom was . . . was on the ceiling, and whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.”

“He never had a theory about what did it?” Sam asked.

“If he did, he kept it to himself.”

“Okay,” Klaus nodded. “Okay. That’s a good start.” He placed a gentle hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean didn’t shake him off, but he also didn’t look too happy about the touch at the moment. Klaus gave him a small pat, then pulled away.

“We need to refill Baby,” Dean said.

As Baby was being refilled, Dean leaned against the trunk. Sam stood next to him while Klaus stayed in the back seat.

“So, if we’re gonna figure out what’s going on now,” Sam said, “we have to figure out what happened back then, see if it’s the same thing.”

While on the drive to the gas station, Dean had some time to prepare for Sam to bring this back up. He knew he would. Sam’s mind was currently in a loop over all of this, ever since he had that dream. Dean knew his kid, and he knew that he wouldn’t let this rest until they figured it out.

Even if Dean’s sanity was pushed past the limits.

He didn’t blame Sam. Just his traumatic upbringing.

“Yeah,” Dean said, clipped. “Talk to Dad’s friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time.”

Sam let out a huff. “Does this feel like ‘just another job’ to you?” he asked, going back to what Klaus suggested.

Dean remained quiet, fisting his hands in his pockets. He took a breath to say something, stopped, then tried again. “I’m . . . I’ll be right back. Gotta go to the bathroom.” He pushed himself off of Baby and didn’t look back as he walked around the back of the station. He was glad Sam didn’t stop him.

Rounding the building and stopping behind a pile of tires, Dean took out his phone. With quick fingers, he typed in Dad’s number.

“ _ This is John Winchester. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 866-907-3235 _ .”

“Dad,” Dean started. He shifted his feet, clenching and unclenching his jaw. He licked his lips. “I know I’ve left you messages before. I don’t even know if you get them.” He knew he didn’t. He would have called back by now, surely. Right? He cleared his throat.

“But, I’m with Sam and Klaus, and we’re in Lawrence,” his lip trembled. “And there’s something in our old house. I don’t know if it’s the thing that killed Mom or not, but . . .” He took a breath to keep his voice from cracking. He wasn’t successful. “I don’t know what to do.”

His eyes stung, the weight of what he was saying really hitting him. He had  _ no clue _ what to do. He was drowning, and his brothers kept handing him anchors instead of lifejackets. He wanted-- _ needed _ \--help. 

“So, whatever you’re doing, if you could get here . . .  _ Please _ . . .” he brushed his eyes, refusing to cry. “I need your help, Dad.”

He pursed his lips, not knowing what else to say. Lowering the phone, he slapped it closed and put his face in his hands.

What was he supposed to do?  _ What was he supposed to do? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Be safe out there <3


	34. So Put Your Best Face On Everybody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missouri is here! Klaus and Vanya talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooooo~  
> I'm baaaaaaaaack~  
> I've missed this story ;-;  
> This chapter isn't very long, and I didn't edit, but it's here, which is more than I've been able to say as of late. I took a break, as many of you kindly recommended, and tbh I needed it. Thanks for the support and love. All y'all are the best <3

Klaus decided to stay in the car while Sam and Dean investigated their dad’s old job. He held his phone between two sweaty hands (his hands  _ never _ sweat, what is this?) and he trained his eyes solely on his brother.

“You sure you don’t want to talk to her?”

“Not today, Klaus,” Ben said. “I think you need to talk to her the most right now.”

“But you will later, right?”

Ben looked away. Something burned in Klaus’s chest.

“Promise me.”

“What?”

“Promise me that you will,” Klaus said. “Promise me that you’ll talk to her later. That you’ll at least give it a shot.”

“Klaus . . .”

“Please, Ben?” Klaus grabbed his brother’s shoulder, forcing him to look into his eyes. “I know you need her as much as you claim I do.”

Ben pursed his lips, eyes filled with sorrow and longing, but he nodded. Klaus gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“Good.”

With a great sigh, Klaus squared his thin shoulders and called his sister. She answered after the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Vanya!” Klaus smiled wide. He really loved his talks with his sister.

“Klaus,” she greeted warmly. “How are you?”

He paused, tangling his fingers around his dress tassels, before the lie came, “Good! Good. You?”

Ben gave him a deadly glare, but Klaus ignored him.

“Things have been okay. Dad doesn’t really talk to me anymore, at all. He used to say some stuff here and there but . . . he’s kind of separating himself from me entirely. Pogo, too. Mom’s the only one who asks after me anymore.”

Klaus’s heart clenched. “What about the others?”

“They’re . . . fine. Diego and Luther are getting more heated in their arguments and Alli isn’t really helping the situation, since she’s kind of doing her own thing and practicing lines a bunch.”

“Lines for what?”

“She’s thinking about doing community theater.”

Klaus’s heart melted. “Awe, she’ll be so great!” He twisted his tassels around his fingers. “What about Emma? How is that coming along?”

Vanya was silent on the other end for a bit, and Klaus was worried that maybe something bad happened. He hoped not. Emma seemed like a really nice girl.

“Actually . . .” Vanya began, and Klaus sat up straighter. “She asked if I wanted to get ice cream with her next Tuesday.”

Klaus’s jaw dropped. “Whaaat? You’re going on a date? I’m so proud of you!”

“It’s not a date!” Vanya yelped, and he could imagine her face turning pink as she hid beneath her bangs. “It’s just two friends going out for some fun.”

“Hmm, I don’t know, Van. Kind of sounds like a date to me.”

“Klaus!”

Klaus giggled and shook his head. “Fine, fine. Not a date. But! You have to tell me all about it later.” A thought came to him. “Wait, this is the first time you’re going out with a friend! Vanya, I’m so happy for you.”

And he really, really was, despite the pain of knowing his sister was most likely going to get some healthy romantic action long before he did. He hated that he felt that way. She deserved all the love in the world.

“Thank you, Klaus,” she said softly. And, really, wasn’t that all that mattered, in the end? His sister was happy and starting a life outside their hellish home, and he was so proud of her for it. She took that step. That bravery wouldn’t go unrewarded, surely.

“What have you been up to, lately?” she asked. And boy, was that a loaded question.

Lots of stuff. Too much stuff. Also, Ben was dead-but-not and could traverse into the real world whenever he damn well pleased, and Klaus could do more than see ghosts.

Klaus let out a manic laugh, eyes cutting to Ben. His brother, unhelpfully, rolled his wrist as though to say,  _ well, tell her! _

“I’ve been improving my powers lately. More than just seeing ghosts. Now I can make them real.”

She hummed, seeming a bit bored by the topic. Or annoyed. Either way, it cut him deeply. He talked about his advancements every call, so she must have been getting sick of the same conversation each time. He scrambled for something else.

“Uh . . . and I met a cute boy.” He didn’t want to talk about this, why was he talking about this-- “Good guy. Name’s Matt.”

“Oh? What’s he like?”

“Bug fanatic. Likes big sweaters. Ruffled, brown hair.”

“Interesting.” She huffed a small laugh. “You like him?”

It wasn’t a secret in the Academy that Klaus swung both ways. He thought lots of people were cute or pretty or handsome, boy or girl. Or maybe he was just starved for affection no matter the form.

He didn’t have to try hard to get his feelings across when he honestly said, “Yeah. Yeah, I . . . did.”

A lump formed in his throat again, but the ache in his chest was a lot lighter than before.

“Did something happen?” she asked kindly.

He sighed, light and airy. “Alas, twas not to be.” He could always rely on his antics to hide behind. “His heart was set for another.”

“Oh, Klaus . . .”

The pitying tone she adopted made him choked up. He cleared his throat and scrubbed a hand over his face.

“It’s alright, Van,” he said. “Hearing about you and your friend has lifted my spirits.” He snorted. “Heh, spirits. Cuz I’m Number Four.”

She huffed and said, “Well, I’m glad my gossip could help a little.”

“Oh, yes, it very much did.”

Surprisingly, he did feel better. He got something off his chest he didn’t realize he needed off. Maybe because it was Vanya. Or maybe because he just needed to say it out loud. Who knew.

“So, um . . .” his sister shyly said. “Is . . . Is Ben still with you?”

“Always is, the annoying bitch,” he ducked a swing from Ben. “Why ask, sister dear?”

“You’re sober now,” she sounded hesitant to continue.

“Yessiree. Don’t tell dad, though, or else he might track me down.”

She didn’t giggle like he had expected, but she did sigh and he felt like some of the tension leaked out when she said, “How long has he been around?”

“Oh,” Klaus paused. He didn’t want his sister to feel guilty for what happened at the funeral, but he also wanted to be as honest as he could. A glance to Ben didn’t glean anything, as his brother was hidden in his hoodie and looking out the car window. A clear Ben sign: don’t want to talk right now.

Well, fine.

“Oh, you know. He just showed up one day and then wouldn’t leave. Been haunting my ass ever since. Doing typical Ben stuff, like mother henning and demanding I change my ways of life.”

“And you didn’t . . . summon him?”

Klaus’s lips twisted. He knew how his siblings all thought that he  _ wanted _ the ghosts around and could call them and send them away at will. And while the second was now a lot more true, the first was far from it. Ghosts just  _ showed up _ , like they were drawn to him. It was awful, and the main reason he turned to drugs to begin with.

“Nope,” he answered honestly. “He showed up on his own. Must be the power of love or something.”

He dodged another swipe with a laugh. “Don’t be rude, Benny.”

He heard Vanya swallow, then she asked, “Is he . . . okay?”

“Hmm . . . define okay.”

“Um . . .” she paused and he heard something shuffle in the background. “Like, is he doing alright? Does he . . . miss us? Does he still love us?”

_ Does he blame us? _

“Oh Vanya,” Klaus whispered. “He’s alright. Dead, but alright. He misses all of you a lot, and I’m sure if he wasn’t tethered to me for some reason, he’d be with you guys all the time.”

Vanya made a choked sound while Ben glared at him from under his hood. Klaus shrugged in a  _ what, it’s true _ way. Ben pursed his lips and his glare narrowed.

“We’ve had this discussion before, Klaus,” Ben said.

Klaus elected to ignore him.

“Can you tell him I love him?” Vanya said, sounding teary and shaky.

Ben, of course, already heard it, and he winced as though he had been burned. Klaus smiled slightly, brows together.

“He loves you too, Van. Very, very much.”

Vanya let out a stuttering sob. Klaus bit his lip to keep it from wobbling.

“O-Okay,” Vanya said. “I’m sorry. I just . . . needed for him to hear that.”

“It’s alright, sis. No need to apologize for something like this.”

Vanya took another unsteady breath, then said, “Thank you. I’ll, uh, hear from you later?”

“Of course. Gotta update my favorite sister on all the shenanigans I get into.”

She giggled softly, and he treasured the sound. “Bye, Klaus.”

“Love you, Van!”

The phone call ended with a  _ click _ , and Klaus stared at his phone for a moment.

He realized that he had never heard one of his siblings--outside of Ben--tell him they loved him.

He wasn’t sure why that bothered him so much. He already knew they all hated him. Why would they lie and tell him something like that?

“Klaus?”

Klaus looked up at his brother and threw on a quick smile. “I want to grab some jerky at the next stop we go to.”

Sam was excited to see this woman “Missouri”. She was a psychic, who apparently knew about the supernatural, and helped Dad see the truth about the world. At least, that’s what it said in Dad’s journal.

Dad’s old job didn’t dig up much, other than what they knew. Dad was obsessed with the thing that killed Mom and sounded absolutely crazy to his work buddies. His old friend did mention the “psychics and palm readers” that Dad went to, which led them to finding Missouri.

“I thought Dad meant the state,” Dean had said.

Now, here they were, inside the modest psychic shop that Missouri owned and waiting for their turn to speak with her. 

They were seated just outside a beaded curtain archway, stairs to their left. Klaus sat across from them, leaning back casually in his seat and picking at his nails. Sam was too excited to relax.

“I need to pick up some nail polish soon,” Klaus muttered.

“Why?” Dean asked.

“Because I’m less likely to chew them if I have something there.”

Dean nodded distractedly as an old man and a short black woman stepped out behind the beaded curtain.

“Don’t you worry bout a thing,” the woman--Missouri, Sam was sure--said with a strong accent. She gave off a motherly attitude that had Sam already liking her. “Your wife is crazy about ya.”

Klaus sat up straight as the pair neared, and Missouri followed the man up until the door. As soon as the man left, she turned back around, seeming exhausted. “Whew! Poor bastard . . . His woman is cold-bangin’ the gardener.”

She shook her head, making the coiffed black ringlets on top of her head bounce. The sunlight caught several earrings in both ears as she turned back towards the curtain.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Dean asked.

“Oh, people don’t come here for the truth,” Missouri made a face. “They come to hear good news.” When she turned back around and looked at them all, and they didn’t do anything, she raised a brow. “Well? Sam and Dean, come on already. I ain’t got all day.”

Sam glanced to his brothers, jaw tightening. They never gave her their names. Klaus excitedly hopped up to follow her, and the older two hurried to catch up.

“Well, let me look at ya,” she laughed, standing near a coffee table with her hands on her hips. “Ooh, you boys grew up handsome! And you were one goofy-lookin’ kid, too,” she pointed at Dean.

Dean gawped, and Sam tried his best not to laugh.

“And who is this?” she asked, gesturing to Klaus.

“Klaus Hargreeves,” Klaus did a curtsy, and Missouri grinned. He jerked a thumb at the Winchesters. “I’m with them.”

“I can see that,” her smiled slipped the tiniest bit. “You have a presence around you, something otherworldly.”

Klaus blinked a few times, then guffawed. “Well, I guess you could say my looks are out of this world.” He batted his lashes. “But, ah, no. I suppose you mean my area of expertise. Ghost whisperer extraordinaire!” He waved his hand with a flourish.

“Wow!” Missouri’s large smile returned. “Well ain’t that somethin’. You and I would get along great.” She tilted her head. “So I guess you know you have a spirit with you?”

“Oh, of course,” Klaus nodded. “My brother, Ben. He never leaves me be.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “Family. Always there to annoy you, but in the end they’re the ones to stick up for ya tooth and nail.”

“I suppose so,” Klaus grinned at the empty air beside him.

Missouri sighed and leaned forward to take Sam’s hands. “Sam . . .” her smile fell and her eyes pierced Sam. He leaned back the slightest bit, alarmed at the contact. “Oh honey. I’m so sorry about your girlfriend.”

It was his turn for his jaw to drop. Panic flooded his chest.

“And your father . . .” she looked between them. “He’s missin’?”

“How’d you know all that?” Sam demanded.

“Well, you were just thinkin’ about it, just now,” she said, her tone still soft and kind like it had been since the start of the conversation.

“Well, where is he?” Dean asked, and Sam could tell he was trying to hide his anxiousness. “Is he okay?”

Missouri furrowed her brows and pursed her lips. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t know? W-Y-You’re supposed to be a  _ psychic _ , right?”

“Boy,” Missouri glared, “you see me sawin’ some bony tramp in half? You think I’m a magician?”

Dean looked at a loss for words, and Klaus snorted behind his hand.

“I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can’t just pull facts outta thin air!”

Sam threw a smirk at Dean. His older brother was reminiscent of a fish on land.

“Sit, please,” Missouri gestured to the couches. Sam went first, and Dean followed like a chastised little boy. Klaus sat on the arm rest with his legs crossed beneath him.

“Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’mma whack you with a spoon!” Missouri threatened.

“I didn’t do anything,” Dean protested.

“Well, you were thinkin’ about it.”

Sam laughed while Dean raised his brows and situated himself more comfortably on the sofa.

“Okay, so . . .” Sam began. “Our dad. When did you first meet him?”

“He came for a reading, a few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say . . . I drew back the curtains for him.”

“What about the fire?” Dean asked. “Do yo--Do you know about what killed our mom?”

“A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin’ I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing.”

“And could you?” Sam said.

She shook her head. “I don’t . . .”

“What was it?”

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. She exhaled sharply. “But it was evil.”

“Do you think it could still be there?” Klaus asked. “In the house?”

“No,” she said. “No, it can’t be.” She looked thoughtfully at him. “You think something’s back in that house?”

“Definitely. I could  _ feel _ it.” Klaus shuddered. “It was evil, that’s for sure. I’ve never felt something so rawly . . . demonic.”

Missouri stood from her chair and paced. “I don’t understand. I haven’t been back inside, but I’ve been keepin’ an eye on the place, and it’s been quiet. No sudden deaths. No freak accidents. Why is it acting up now?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said. “But with Dad missing, and Jessica dying . . . and now this house, all at once . . . it just feels like something is starting.”

“That’s a comforting thought,” Dean grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Tour of childhood home part 2 and some revelations brought to light.  
> Hopefully the next one comes out sooner than this one, lol  
> See you soon!


	35. Wait a Second, Let Me Catch My Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missouri is The Best. Klaus has some things to think about. Creepy ghosts are creepy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I am a day late, I know. But I legit slept all day yesterday and got up at around 17:00, so I had to rush to get homework done instead of working on this chapter. But! Thank you for your patience and understanding. All y'all are too good for me, I swear.

Klaus was not happy to be heading back to that house so soon. Neither was Dean, though, so perhaps it wasn’t too bad.

They brought Missouri with them, and Klaus was careful not to touch her or let any thoughts escape that she could read. He was being paranoid, yes, but he couldn’t be too careful. While he liked her plenty, he didn’t like the idea of her rooting around his brain. It was freaky and too much like his old life for comfort.

Every few moments, Ben would look his way and roll his eyes. “If she wants to read your mind, what makes you think that purposefully shutting her out will actually keep her out?”

“It can’t hurt to try, Benny,” Klaus shuddered. “It just . . . really freaks me out.”

Ben sighed but didn’t say more.

They parked just outside the house and Klaus waited until Missouri got out first. So, rightly, it surprised him when he stepped out and she was waiting for him with a warm smile on her rosy cheeks. He immediately tensed and stepped around her, avoiding contact. He knew she knew he was avoiding touching her, but she continued to smile anyway.

“You know,” she spoke as they moved together towards the house. “Those two rascals over there think real high of ya.”

Klaus glanced at the Winchesters, a small flutter of hope in his chest. “They do?”

“Oh yes. Dean took you under his wing and treats you like one of his own. Sam likes to think of you as a baby brother.”

Klaus blushed despite himself and rubbed the back of his neck. “O-Oh. Well. I’m glad I can be useful to them.”

“Useful?” she hummed. “Well, I suppose. But, I think you’ll find that you mean more to them than that.”

Klaus tilted his head, unsure of what to think of that. What more value could be gleaned? Usefulness was always the deciding factor over worth and love. Even outside of the Academy.

Ben looked just as lost as he did, shrugging when he looked his way.

“Which is why,” she said, slowing to a stop and facing him directly, “I’d like it if you stopped thinkin’ so little of yourself.”

Klaus froze, eyes wide and tongue heavy in his mouth.

“I know what you’re thinkin’,” she chuckled. “And I’m not readin’ ya. I can see it in your eyes, baby. You’re seeking out approval even in conversation. You’re bein’ cautious. Keepin’ the waters calm.”

Klaus frowned and looked away from her intense stare. He didn’t like what she was saying. A nasty, ugly feeling in his chest squirmed at her words and darkened his thoughts.

“I’ve been around people enough to gather that much,” she whispered. “What I wanna know is why you keep putting up walls when someone gets too close. Don’t you trust those boys?”

His mouth opened, but his words fumbled and constricted his throat, leaving an empty silence between them. He trusted Sam and Dean. Of course he did.

Right?

“You have told them a lot,” Ben put in. “More than anyone else outside the family. You just haven’t told them everything . . . and you’re avoiding doing that.”

Of course he was. All the little details about his previous life were best left in the past. There wasn’t anything wrong with that.

“Well,” Missouri smiled and reached out to brush some curls away from his eyes. He didn’t flinch away from the touch, but a part of him winced. “I want you to at least think about that.”

He realized that she wanted an answer, so he gave her a small nod. Satisfied, she took the lead again. “Stick close to me. If your description of what happened earlier is correct, I’d rather that you stay by my side than end up alone where this thing could get you.”

With a huff, he did as she asked. Silently, he was grateful for the command, not wanting to be alone in that house for even a second.

They stepped up just as Sam was introducing Missouri to Jenny. The blonde haired woman looked frazzled, her son pressed close against her hip and her breathing labored. That same evil presence invaded Klaus’s senses, and he tried his best to seem unaware.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Dean said, “we were hoping to show her the house, for old time’s sake.”

Klaus just about rolled his eyes. They were lucky that they were allowed inside the first time. Bringing in a complete stranger while Jenny seemed on the verge of a breakdown? She wasn’t going to let them back in.

“No, you know, this isn’t a good time,” Jenny said, brushing a hand through her messy hair. “I’m kind of busy.”

She leaned over to close the door, and Dean came forward into her space. “Listen, Jenny, this is important--ow!”

Missouri drew her hand back from Dean’s head, face stern. Klaus bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“Give the poor girl a break!” Missouri chided. “Can’t you see she’s upset?”

Jenny turned back from the door handle and pursed her lips.

“Forgive this boy, he means well. He’s just not the sharpest tool in the shed.”

Klaus did laugh that time, Dean’s offended face hilarious to him.

“But hear me out,” Missouri went on.

“About what?” Jenny asked, voice frail.

“About this house.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think you know what I’m talking about,” Missouri gave her a sympathetic look. “You think there’s something in this house, something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?”

Jenny swallowed, glancing back and forth between them and Missouri. “Who are you?”

“We’re people who can help, who can stop this thing, but you’re gonna have to trust us just a little.”

The blonde woman bit her lip, eyes darting around them, until they settled on Klaus. He gave her a smile and a nod. She allowed them inside.

“This room should be the center of it,” Missouri said, stepping into a bedroom on the second floor. Klaus hesitated just outside the door, whispers and a horrible darkness filling his mind. He wasn’t too sure he wanted to go inside just yet, fearing what would happen if he did.

“Why?” Sam asked.

“This used to be your nursery, Sam,” Missouri said, turning back around. Her eyes shone with remorse. “This is where it all happened.”

She moved further into the room, while Dean took out his homemade EMF and Sam looked to the ceiling.

“That an EMF?” she asked when she spotted Dean’s device.

Dean glanced up from the readings and said, “Yeah.”

“Amateur,” she shared a cheeky grin with Klaus.

Dean pursed his lips. The EMF made a sound and lit up, and Dean nudged Sam for him to have a look.

“I don’t know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain’t the thing that took your mom,” Missouri’s brows came together.

Klaus leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, picking at the skin around his nails. The whispers grew, and in the corner of his eye he could see something shifting. He refused to look its way.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked. At Missouri’s nod, he said, “How do you know?”

“It isn’t the same energy I felt the last time I was here,” Missouri said. “It’s something different.”

“What is it?” Dean asked as she moved for the closet.

“Not it,” she said, swinging the closet doors wide open. A chill ran down Klaus’s spine. “ _ Them _ .”

_ I didn’t kill them all. I only had three more. Blonde hair and sweet voices. I hated them. Who are you? You can hear me. I know you can. _

Klaus subtly shifted his hands over his ears, willing the whispers to stop.

_ Leave. Get out. He’ll kill you. Can’t you hear me? Get them out. _

More than one. How many? Klaus shuddered.

“There’s more than one spirit in this place,” Missouri said. She locked eyes with Klaus, and he knew she could tell he knew it too.

“What are they doing here?” Dean asked.

_ Kill. Kill them all. _

_ Please, Klaus. _

“They’re here because of what happened to your family,” she stepped up to Dean. “You see, all those years ago,  _ real evil _ came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds, and sometimes those wounds get infected.”

“I don’t understand,” Sam shook his head.

_ Twenty. Only twenty. Will you join them? _

_ They can’t be here. _

_ You look so beautiful. I’m sure you’d look even more beautiful with your blood splattered on the walls. _

_ Leave. _

“This place is a magnet for paranormal energy,” she said. “It’s attracted a poltergeist--a nasty one--and it won’t rest until Jenny and her babies are dead.”

The room seemed to  _ sing _ with energy, the shadows in the corners of his eyes scrambling closer and closer into his space. He bit back a whimper when he felt a cold hand brush through his curls.

“Klaus--” Ben started.

“You said there was more than one spirit,” Sam said, and Klaus focused back in on his words.

“There is,” she nodded.She stepped back into the closet, moving her hands around as though trying to feel the spirits through mere will. “I just can’t quite make out the second one.” She looked to Klaus, who allowed for his eyes to slip shut. “Klaus?”

“A lot,” he said, breath quickening. “A man and a woman seem to be the most obvious to me. Voices. Telling me stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” Dean asked.

“Bad stuff,” he shivered, a hand passing through his chest. He jolted away from it, feeling like his body burned at the touch. “They don’t want us here.”

“Klaus, you should leave--” Ben was cut off when an ear-shattering scream sounded right by Klaus’s face. He stumbled back out into the hallway, hands firm on his ears and eyes squeezed shut.

“Klaus?” Sam hurried to his side, a warm hand cupping his cheek while the other steadied him at the elbow.

“I-I need to leave,” he whimpered. “Please. Get me out of here.”

He didn’t see it, but he felt Sam nod above him and squeeze his elbow. “We can talk more about this away from here.”

Klaus was shuffled down the hall before anyone could protest, and he curled in closer to the taller man.

“Well, one thing’s for damn sure,” Dean said behind them as they left. “Nobody’s dying in this house ever again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Can't wait for next time ;)


	36. Quiet When I'm Comin' Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus gets a much needed hug. The crew makes charms to get rid of the ghosts in Jenny's house. Sam gets choked by a lamp. Klaus almost kills himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so intense for me to write that I actually made my hands tingle.  
> TW: A ghost possesses Klaus and nearly makes him kill himself. Be careful, babes.  
> Enjoy! It's long, it's edited, it's crazy. Lemme know what you think in the comments. I actually tried really hard on this one ;-;

As soon as they were outside of the house, Klaus felt as though he could breathe again. He leaned heavily into Sam and gasped, eyes watering from the strain delivered to his body.

The hell kind of poltergeist drained him like this? The only other time something like this happened was . . .

Nope. Not going there.

He shivered and gripped at Sam’s flannel shirt.

“You okay?” Sam asked.

Klaus nodded, using his free hand to wipe at his face. “Better, now that I’m out of  _ there. _ ”

“What happened?”

He shook his head and walked farther away, before turning to the rest and letting out a sigh. “It felt like a lot of ghosts were in there, but they were attracted to the poltergeist. There were only two major ghosts that I could get a read on; a man and a woman. The man gave me the heebie jeebies. For sure, he’s the poltergeist. I won’t go into details because . . .” he shivered. “No. The woman demanded that we leave and started pleading towards the end there. The usual spiel:  _ Klaus, please. Save my children. _ Blah blah blah.”

“Usual spiel?” Sam asked.

Klaus winced, tangling his fingers together in knots. Idly, he realized it was a tick he picked up from Ben.  _ Huh _ .

“Uh, yeah,” he nodded. “Most ghosts, whenever they notice that I can see them, they get all crazy and beg for me to do stuff for them. Grab at me and stuff. Yell a lot.”

The boys’ eyes widened, but Klaus looked away before they could see his fear at the subject.

“All the time?”

“It’s worse at graveyards.”

“The church . . .” Dean said, sounding like he connected certain puzzle pieces together. “Any way for you to make them stop?”

Before he could answer Dean’s question, Missouri spoke up, “Oh honey. Come here.”

He was not, in any shape or form, prepared for the hug that she enveloped him with. It was like being bundled up in a warm, weighted blanket (he tried one only once when he hung out with that guy--what was his name? Gerald?--and it worked  _ wonders _ on his anxiety) that smelled like ground coffee and hints of incense. She felt like  _ home _ and  _ safety _ , and Klaus just . . . collapsed into her.

When was the last time he was hugged like this? Ben, Karen? While they hugged him, it didn’t feel like  _ this _ . Karen felt motherly and nice, but she wasn’t  _ warm _ . Ben was the same, though with extra insults and teasing.

He felt protected with this hug.

“You’re shakin’ like a leaf,” she cooed, running her hands slowly up and down his back. He relaxed further into her, and swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall. “You can explain more at home, okay? Don’t you worry, baby. We’ll take care of the ghosts. They won’t get to you.”

He tensed. She was reading him. He tried to wiggle away, but she just held him tighter.

“Hush,” she whispered. “It’s okay. I’d never hurt you.”

_ But she’d know. She’d know  _ everything _ and he just can’t handle that _ \--

But . . . the hug was so nice, and the warmth soothed something in his chest--

Then she carded her fingers in his hair and he couldn’t protest any longer. With a great sigh, releasing just . . . _ everything _ , he leaned into her and let her smother him.

“Well?” she asked somewhere behind her. Oh, right. Dean and Sam. “Get in the car already. We got some charms to make.”

She herded Klaus to the back of the car and the boys scrambled to keep up. Klaus glanced back briefly, and saw an insanely happy smile on Ben’s face. His brother winked at him and huddled close to his side.

Missouri didn’t let go of him the entire ride, and he found himself relaxing against her side. It wasn’t long before he drifted out of consciousness to the soothing rumble of the engine and the smell of ground coffee beans and incense.

Klaus was out like a light before they pulled up to Missouri’s place. Ben snorted quietly, shaking his head.  _ Finally _ .

Seriously, Ben could not have been more grateful to Missouri. First, Klaus needed to be hugged by another living person. Second, that person needed to be someone who would just hold him forever and not complain. Third . . . well, the warmth that Missouri had was necessary at the moment.

Ben knew that Klaus would likely have flashbacks of the mausoleum after what happened in that house. Even  _ he _ was having trouble, and the ghosts weren’t crowding him. Having someone living touch him and let him know that he was alive, that the cold and the screams wouldn’t be there forever, was  _ exactly _ what his brother needed.

The familiar surge of jealousy that came with that thought was smothered by the relief that Klaus didn’t wake when they went to move him.

“Set him down on the couch,” Missouri instructed Sam. The freakishly tall man (seriously, how tall was he? He was a  _ behemoth _ ) settled Klaus gently on the old leather couch. Missouri was quick to lay a patterned blanket over him and tuck him in like a small child. Ben bit his lip to keep the chuckle at bay.

“So, what did you say we were making?” Sam tilted his head like a puppy. “Charms?”

Missouri gave them a smirk. “Follow me.”

She led them into the back room, then further until they reached the kitchen. She grabbed things from her cupboards and the fridge, telling them to sit before laying out her plunder on the table.

Dean grabbed a piece of black fabric and raised a brow. “What’s all this stuff?”

“Angelica root, van van oil, crossroad dirt, a few other odds and ends,” she moved around to the other side of the table and sat in an empty chair.

“And what are we gonna do with it?”

“We’re gonna put them inside the walls, in the north, south, east, west corners on each floor of the house.” She took hold of some cloth and some ingredients and showed them how to make a charm.

“Punching holes in the drywall--Jenny’s gonna  _ love _ that.”

“She’ll live.”

“And this will destroy the spirits?” Sam asked.

“It should,” Missouri nodded. “It should purify the house completely. Which means that you, Ben, should probably remain outside while we work.”

Ben startled at the address, but shook his head. “I’m sure that Klaus will be able to keep me here and okay.”

She didn’t say anything, and Ben hummed. So she couldn’t  _ hear _ him, but she could definitely feel him there.

“I didn’t think of that . . .” Sam pursed his lips. “Maybe Klaus and Ben should just stay here until we’re done?”

“Maybe,” Missouri sighed. “I just don’t like the idea of leavin’ that poor boy alone for long, even if he does have his brother.”

“Then we’ll go fast,” Dean shrugged.

Missouri nodded. “We’ll each take a floor, but we work fast. Once the spirits realize what we’re up to, things are gonna get bad. And without Klaus acting as a buffer, it could turn sour real fast.”

The group worked diligently on the charms, being exact on the ingredients so there wouldn’t be any mistakes. It drew Ben in, his unblinking eyes so focused on their task that he didn’t realize the sun had gone down until they were done and packing away the charms into Missouri’s bag.

Klaus was still asleep in the front room where they left him, though he had curled up on his side and was drooling into one of the fancy tasseled pillows. The blanket was tangled around his body like a cocoon, but Klaus looked like he couldn’t be any happier. Ben smiled and wished he had a camera.

“We’ll come back soon,” Missouri whispered to him, giving his head a gentle pat.

At this point, Ben had a decision to make.

While it was true that Klaus really shouldn’t be left alone for longer than a few hours, he seemed really peaceful right now, and was in a safe place that was protected against ghosts. He didn’t look like he would be getting up anytime soon, either.

Meanwhile, the others were walking straight into danger, danger that Ben could buffer with the help of Klaus’s energy. And yes, that would be dangerous to himself, but he was confident that Klaus’s ability would keep him safe. He had always been an exception.

He followed the others out the door and towards Jenny’s home.

Missouri assured Jenny and her family that they would take care of things, and for them to just go out and have fun. Ben hoped that they would enjoy themselves. Jenny seemed really stressed and anxious.

Ben pressed a hand to his chest again, puzzling over this . . . empty feeling he had. This numbness that stretched from his heart to his extremities.

It hadn't started until they pulled away from Missouri's home. It started as a cold feeling, then turned freezing, then numb. The further they drove away from the house--the further they got from  _ Klaus _ \--the stronger the feeling became.

With a start, he realized that the feeling was reminiscent of the time before Klaus started practicing his powers, nearly four months ago. When had he started feeling different? 

Anxiously, he tested the tether that connected them. He let out a sigh of relief. It was still there, but it felt muted. He guessed it was because Klaus was asleep.

So, what was this? Was it because he was far away from Klaus? He snorted at himself. Okay, yeah, that seemed pretty obvious. But, then, what effect would that have on this mission? Would he be able to protect the others?

He mulled over this as Jenny’s car disappeared down the street. It wasn’t until he noticed that the others were already inside that he snapped back to attention.

Ben hovered outside the archway to the kitchen as Missouri assigned the brothers to a floor.

“Dean, you take the bottom floor. Sam, take the top floor. I’ll take the basement.”

“Be careful,” Dean grunted, grabbing a hammer and inspecting the walls for the best place to put a charm.

“Yeah yeah,” Sam huffed, grabbing his own hammer and heading for the stairs.

“Remember,” Missouri warned, “the north, south, east, and west corners.”

Dean waved a hand at her and Sam nodded before taking the stairs two at a time.

Ben’s mind flashed back to the time when he had seen Sam come out of Bobby’s bathroom, covered in bruises and cuts, and how it had scared him. It still scared him. Worriedly, he followed behind Sam, who, in his mind, seemed most likely to get harmed when he and Klaus weren’t there to help.

Whispers hissed in his ears, words tickling the back of his mind. He shuddered. If he still had skin, he was sure that he would have goosebumps. As it was, he could see how the floor became colder since Sam’s breath ghosted before his nose.

The first couple of charms were placed nicely and without incident in the walls. The third one caught the attention of the ghosts, but Ben was relieved when nothing attacked Sam.

It was the fourth one that gave them the most trouble.

Sam was tapping away at the wall, trying to find a spot that didn’t have pipes or wires in the way (no need to completely ruin Jenny’s house, after all). Ben waited anxiously at the foot of Jenny’s bed, the whispers growing the more Sam prodded at the wall.

“Hurry up, hurry up . . .” Ben grumbled, twisting his fingers together.

A small  _ click _ near the window drew Ben’s attention. He whipped to the sound, eyes spotting the plug to a lamp twisting away from the wall and towards Sam. A vague shadow hovered over the plug.

Ben stood abruptly and reached out to stop it. It did stop, a shifting, surprised face looking back at him. His hands passed right through it.

“Sorry, buddy, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Ben said.

The shadow hesitated, the formless being bobbing over the plug.

Sam found a spot to place the charm, readying his hammer.

The shadow lunged forward, straight through Ben and wrapping the cord of the plug tightly around Sam’s neck. Ben gasped at the intrusion, then spun around just in time for Sam to be thrown to the floor at his feet.

Sam grunted, the air in his lungs forced out from the impact. He tried to bring in air, but the cord tightened and left him gasping.

“Sam!” Ben knelt next to his friend, grabbing at the cord. His hands went through.

The formless being’s face sneered before disappearing behind the shifting darkness.

Ben swatted at the being, but he was about as useful as a light breeze against a brick wall. He grit his teeth and focused back on the cord. Maybe he could wrestle the being for it.

He waited for the familiar feeling of becoming corporeal without Klaus’s assistance and . . . felt nothing. He fisted his hands and concentrated harder. Nothing. He couldn’t even feel the coolness of the room.

Panicking now, Ben reached once more for the cord, to no avail. Sam was turning purple. His gasps for breath stopped. He had maybe seconds.

“Sam!” Ben screamed. “Sam, please!” He looked up for anything to help. There was nothing. “Dean!”

Sam went lax underneath him. Tears poured down his cheeks. “Sam! No, no no--”

Like an angel, Dean was suddenly there. He slid to his knees beside his brother and tugged on the cord, muscles straining. “Sammy!”

“Dean, Dean please--” Ben babbled.

Dean couldn’t remove it, no matter how hard he pulled. Ben sobbed.

Dean shot up, charm in hand, and he started kicking at the wall, not caring what was behind it. As soon as there was a big enough hole, he shoved the charm inside.

Lightning flashed. Thousands of voices screamed in outrage and fear. Ben’s world became black.

Sam came to against a steady and firm chest.  _ Dean _ .

He coughed, wheezing. He wasn’t getting enough air--

“Careful, there, sport,” Dean’s voice pushed past the swirling thoughts. “You’re alright. Throat’s a little swollen, but you’ll be fine.”

He had been choked by a lamp. His cheeks flushed dark red. He’d never hear the end of it.

Dean pounded his back a few times, until Sam felt like he could breathe somewhat normally enough. Sam pushed away from his shorter, older brother, a question in his gaze.

“Yeah, we got it done. No more ghosts.”

Sam let out a harsh sigh. He needed some water.

“Come on, Little John. Let’s get you a glass of water and a Tylenol.”

Dean helped him to his feet, and Sam only staggered for a moment before he was steady. Dean stayed at his elbow, eyebrow raised. Sam waved a hand.

They trekked down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Missouri was already popping two pills and rubbing at her hip. She wordlessly handed over the bottle of Tylenol for him, and he gave her a grateful smile and popped two of his own. Dean handed him a glass of water and he downed it a little too fast.

Dean slapped his back. “Hey, no choking a second time on me.”

Sam let out a raspy chuckle. “No promises.”

Dean grinned.

Now that Sam could focus a little more, he noticed how  _ trashed _ the kitchen was. Food was splattered all over the floor, the fridge wide open and contents spilling out. The table was resting on its side, knife wounds embedded deep--and some all the way through--the nice mahogany. The counter items were scattered and tipped over. The drawers were all opened, some violently ripped from where they rested and broken into pieces near the walls.

“Wow,” Sam raised his brows. “I don’t think Jenny likes your redecorating, Dean.”

Dean glared at him just as the front door opened and Jenny’s voice called out.

“We’re home!” she froze in the archway of her kitchen, eyes widening at the mess. “O-Oh . . .”

“Ah, yeah,” Sam grimaced. “Sorry. We’ll pay for everything.”

Dean’s glare intensified.

“Don’t worry, honey,” Missouri piped in. “Dean will clean up this mess.”

Dean gaped.

“Don’t cuss at me, boy!” Missouri scolded. “Go get the broom.”

Grudgingly, Dean did as he was told, trudging away and muttering under his breath.

By the time Jenny had put the children to bed, Dean and Sam had fixed the kitchen as well as they could. Sam lifted the table upright as she came to escort them to the door.

“Thank you,” she said as they left. Sam couldn’t help but feel like something was missing.

He continued to mull over it as they pulled into Missouri’s driveway. On the steps, Dean asked, “You okay?”

“I just . . . get the feeling that this isn’t over,” Sam admitted.

“Well, the ghosts disappeared,” Dean said. “Maybe you’re just overly paranoid.”

“Klaus?” Missouri’s voice shook from inside the house. Sam’s blood ran cold, and he shoved his way inside.

There, in front of the couches, Klaus stood listlessly, eyes blank and far away. His hands glowed a faint blue beneath his jacket, but there was nothing around them. Sam tensed as his face turned towards them.

There wasn’t a lick of recognition in his gaze. His hazel orbs were dull. His lips were parted the slightest bit.

“Klaus?” Sam asked hesitantly, reaching a hand in front of Missouri in case something happened.

Klaus’s eyes snapped to attention, searing through him. Sam sucked in a sharp breath. Klaus’s lips twitched like he was fighting the sneer that was forming.

“Who . . . do . . . you . . . think . . . I am?” Klaus asked. He didn’t sound right. The glow in his fingers intensified.

“Klaus--” Dean took a small step forward. Klaus snarled at him.

“I . . . will . . . not . . . be . . . stopped,” the blue haze from his hands leaked up towards his face. “Not . . . by . . . measly . . . charms.”

“It’s not Klaus,” Dean determined. Sam shoved Missouri more fully behind him, the woman looking near to tears.

“No,” Klaus-Not-Klaus shook his head. He smiled cruelly. “This . . . one . . . goes first.”

The teen bolted for the back, and Dean was quick to pursue. Sam turned about and gripped Missouri’s shoulders. “Stay here. If he comes at you, don’t hesitate to use force.”

Missouri shook beneath him, but her face grew firm. “You save my baby, you hear me?”

Sam nodded once, then ran after his brothers.

He found them in the kitchen, squabbling over a knife. Dean had a grip on Klaus’s wrist, the knife in Klaus’s white-knuckled grasp above Dean’s head. Rather than Klaus attacking Dean, it seemed more like Dean was trying to take the knife away. Klaus was on his back on the kitchen floor, blue light swirling around him and his free hand shoved in Dean’s face to give them distance. Dean was leaned over him, free hand reaching for the knife.

Klaus kicked his knee up and Dean grunted as he was thrown back. Dean’s hand slipped from Klaus’s wrist, and Klaus took the opportunity to flip the knife around so it was facing himself.

Sam crashed into the teen, hands flailing for the knife. It flew from Klaus’s hand and skittered across the floor.

“Pin him!” Dean shouted from somewhere behind him. Cupboards were opened and slammed shut.

Sam didn’t have to be told twice. He used his lower half to keep the boy from kicking him away like he had Dean (and when had Klaus gotten so  _ strong _ ? It had to be the poltergeist possessing him), and trapped Klaus’s hands beneath his own larger ones.

Klaus bucked and foamed at the mouth like a wild animal. The blue seeped into his eyes; unfamiliar eyes that were filled with hatred and spite rather than goofy joy or haunted looks. Sam held on so tightly that Klaus’s wrists squeaked from his grip.

Dean returned with a canister of salt. He forced Klaus’s jaw open with a harsh clamp of his fingers, then poured the salt down his throat.

Klaus sputtered and shouted curses. A minute later he went limp under Sam.

Dean discarded the salt and went straight for Klaus’s pulse while Sam scrambled off of him. Dean pursed his lips.

“Pulse is steady but fast.”

Sam panted, rubbing absently at his neck. Missouri stumbled into the room and gathered Klaus into her arms.

“What was that?” Sam asked. “That wasn’t like any ghost possession I’ve seen before. They’ve never been so . . . intense. Or so articulate with movements.”

Dean shrugged, looking just as freaked out. “Maybe it had to do with his powers?”

“Maybe . . .”

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence as they thought about that. Dean broke it with a whisper, “Well, looks like you were right . . . It’s not over yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 4th! Thank you so much for reading!


	37. And I'm On My Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poltergeist vs. Klaus! Ben's in a weird place! Sam and Dean meet someone they did not expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I forgot today was Thursday lol. I only remembered when my creative writing class emailed me and was like: Remember, today is War and Animals! And I was like: Shoot, haven't done then homework.. THEN I was like: DAMNIT I DIDN'T DO THE CHAPTER EITHER!!  
> Huzzah, I was able to do both.  
> TW: Klaus gets hurt this chapter. Big time. Blood and screaming to come.  
> Also, Ben has dissociating problems this chap, as well as a depressive (kinda?) episode.  
> Be safe out there babes!

Klaus woke feeling like he was hit with a train and then force fed the ocean. He smacked his lips before opening his eyes, trying to rid his mouth of the nasty taste on his tongue.

His hazel orbs lazily drew across the room, absently noticing the people scattered around the room in an anxious silence. Missouri’s eyes were directly on him, and he figured he wouldn’t be able to pretend to be asleep and find out what the tension was about.

Slowly, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, letting out a groan as his head pounded. The leather couch beneath him squeaked. “Ugh, did I go on a bender or something?”

He waited for the usual snort or reprimand from Ben, but nothing came. Frowning, he glanced around the room, but his ghostly brother was nowhere to be seen.

“Klaus?” Dean shuffled the slightest bit closer. “That you in there?”

Klaus’s brows came together. “Uh, yeah?” He snorted, trying to diffuse the tension, shoulders near his ears. “Why? Expecting a Catholic?”

“That’s him,” Sam snorted, but his voice sounded a tad hoarse.

“What happened to you?” Klaus nodded to the other.

Sam tugged his shirt down a tad to show the bruises around his neck. Klaus pursed his lips. “Happened when we went to banish the ghosts.”

“So it’s been taken care of?” Klaus asked, sitting up straighter.

“Well . . . that’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Dean said, eyes narrowing. “Why don’t you come over here, Klaus?”

“What?” he tilted his head.

“Just do it,” the older brother rolled his eyes. “I’ll explain after.”

Klaus didn’t like the way that sounded. He also didn’t like that Missouri had avoided his gaze this whole time. Hesitantly, feeling as though he was about to be tricked or attacked or something (the shoe finally dropped, didn’t it?), he wobbled to his feet and stepped towards Dean.

Dean’s green eyes (how were they  _ that _ green? They looked like they came straight out of a meadow) narrowed as he came closer, and he stopped before he got too close, heart hammering in his chest.

“Dean?”

Dean flicked his gaze to the floor and back, and slowly he smiled. “You feelin’ alright?”

The sudden change from dangerously wary to relieved concern gave Klaus whiplash. “I . . . what?”

Sam came closer and ruffled his curls, Klaus letting out a squawk of protest. “You really gave us a scare.”

Klaus furrowed his brows again, not having a clue as to what was going on. It wasn’t until he was wrapped into another warm hug from Missouri that he snapped.

“Alright, someone better tell me what’s going on before I  _ lose it _ . And  _ where _ is Ben?”

“We don’t know where Ben is,” Sam frowned, worry crossing his features. “But you were possessed by the poltergeist that we tried to get rid of.”

A shiver ran down his spine, vague memories surfacing. A feeling of  _ wrong _ , a nightmare about a man with a knife and a gleeful attitude as he  _ stabbed and stabbed _ \--

Klaus took a shuddered breath. “. . . Oh.”

Curling into himself, Klaus stuffed his hands into his armpits. It didn’t stop the shaking.

“It’s not there anymore,” Sam said hurriedly. “You’re fine now. You passed through the salt ring fine.”

He pointed to the ground, and Klaus could see what he meant. A line of salt surrounded the couch that he had laid on. If he had still been possessed . . . if that man was still  _ in him _ \--

He gasped as a warm hand ran down his back. “You’re okay, baby.”

Missouri softly talked him down from a panic attack, and he abused his relationship with her by leaning heavily into her side.

“Missouri, where’s Ben?” he asked quietly.

She tutted. “I don’t know.” She pet his hair. “The last I felt of him was when we left the driveway.”

Klaus bit his lip, a million thoughts running through his mind. “What if the poltergeist sent him away? Or they fought and Ben is . . .”  _ hurt, gone, dead.  _ He shook his head. “What if he found out I was possessed and left? What if the tether was broken when I was possessed?”

“Slow down, honey,” Missouri took his face in her large palms, forcing him to look at her. “Panicking won’t help, will it?”

Klaus nodded, but he couldn’t help his spiraling thoughts. She could tell, and glared him down until he forced them into the back of his mind. He knew she wasn’t satisfied, but it was enough.

She moved her hands to his shoulders. “Tether? What tether?”

His eyes widened. “Right. He said that he felt like there was a tether that kept us together. It kept him from freaking out when he went to the Nothing.”

“The Nothing?” Dean asked.

But Klaus ignored him as he searched for this “tether”, praying that he could find it and, consequently, find Ben. He closed his eyes and felt around his . . . brain? Chest? Maybe it had to do with the cold feeling he got when he used his powers?

_ Come on, Ben _ , he called into the darkness. He felt silly, but did it anyway.  _ Come back _ .

Something tickled on the outskirts of his mind. He imagined a thin rope, fraying at the edges and on its last thread.

He took hold of the rope and  _ pulled _ .

He was floating. Everything was dark and empty. He was numb.

A Presence lurked at the back of his mind, but he didn’t have the energy to call out to it.

He knew he should feel scared, but he let out a long, quiet sigh instead.

He wasn’t sure how long he was in here. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was. Or who he was.

There was a sound on the edge of his tongue. He thought maybe it was a name.

He floated.

Shadows danced in front of him. If he cared, he would have called to them. They floated away, just as lifeless as he was.

Lifeless?

Yes, he supposed. Because they were all Dead, here. Nothing Living could come here, but nothing Dead could leave here.

It was the rules.

Rules?

Right. He had tried, once, to wake himself up. To move. To leave.

There was no point.

He wouldn’t get far, before he was back to floating.

He simply had to wait. Wait, for what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe he should just continue to sleep.

He closed his eyes, though he knew it wouldn’t make a difference. He could still See, he just no longer had to witness anything.

This, he thought, was peace.

Right?

Something niggled at the back of his mind again. That Presence. It felt like more than One.

**_You are not meant for this world_ ** .

He didn’t know what that meant.

**_You are ours._ **

Who?

**_You will escape again. Have faith._ **

Faith? Faith had never gotten him anywhere. Why should this be different?

**_He is calling for you. Can’t you hear him? The one We love most?_ **

Him. Curly black hair. Green . . . blue . . . no, brown? Green, blue,  _ and _ brown eyes. Hazel. Manic smile. Stupid jokes.

He knew Him. Who was He?

**_Klaus_ ** .

Klaus.

He knew Klaus. He liked Klaus. Loved him. Where was Klaus?

**_He is calling Us_ ** .

_ Klaus _ . . .

There was a tug on his chest, familiar and icy. He allowed it to pull him away, not caring that another, darker Presence outside of himself became upset that he was leaving again.

He smiled softly.

Klaus’s eyes snapped open when he felt Ben’s presence return, a serene smile on his brother’s face. He raised a brow, masking his relief with a joke. “You usually act so pleased to see me?”

The smile widened, and Ben’s eyes flickered open. “Shut up. I know you’re happy to see me.”

“Lies. Slander. I have no idea where you got that idea.”

Ben chuckled, then ran forward to hug Klaus tightly and . . . oh. He was crying.

Not sobbing, just . . . crying softly into Klaus’s jacket. Klaus hugged him back, patting awkwardly.

Ben laughed wetly. “You’ll never be able to not be weird about affection, will you?”

“Probably not.”

“As great as it is to have you back, Ben,” Dean’s voice interrupted. The two turned to the others in the room. “There’s still a poltergeist on the loose. Since it’s no longer in Klaus, we now gotta find it.”

_ Possessed? _ Ben mouthed.

_ Later _ , Klaus promised. He intended to hear Ben’s side, too. 

“It’s at Jenny’s,” Sam said with surety. “It’s gotta be.”

“You sure?” Dean asked anyway.

Sam nodded. Klaus bit his lip at the grim look on the older’s face.

“Let’s go,” Klaus suggested. “Before something really bad happens.”

Dean skidded to a stop outside Jenny’s house, Klaus having to grip the back of the front bench to keep from flying forward. Missouri barely budged. Woman was a force of nature, he could swear.

As soon as it stopped, Sam was out of the car, fear splashed across his face. “Dean!”

There, in the top window, was Jenny. She was banging on the window, silent screams pouring from her mouth. Her hair flew about wildly. As Klaus ran for the door, he saw her be pulled back by an invisible force.

“You get the kids!” Dean ordered Sam and Klaus. “I’ll get Jenny!”

The boys ran inside while Missouri waited outside with a bag of salt and a few blankets.

“You feel that, Ben?” Klaus asked as he and Sam ran for the stairs.

Ben shook his head.

“Two ghosts. Man and woman. Poltergeist and . . . I don’t know, really. But definitely a strong presence.”

Sam and Klaus split in the hallway, Klaus heading for the toddler’s room while Sam went for Sari. Klaus opened the child’s door easily enough, and was able to grab him before something bad happened.

As he left the room, however, he came face to face with a flaming woman, her eyes steely and dark green. Her blonde hair whipped about her face, and she paused at the doorway. Her gaze bore into Klaus’s soul, and he involuntarily took a step back. His hand came up to protect the back of the toddler’s head (he wishes he knew the child’s name), and he grit his teeth.

At his side, the Horror slipped from Ben’s stomach, his brother’s eyes dark and jaw set. The woman’s eyes flicked to him, but she didn’t give him more than a glance before it was back on Klaus.

“Klaus,” she said, her voice raspy. Idly, the hysterical thought that she needed a glass of water passed his mind. “You’re back.”

“Sorry, lady, can’t talk right now. Gotta get the little one out of here, you know, before you set the place on fire?”

She tilted her head, seeming to finally see the child in his arms. Hesitantly, she gave a small nod and moved out of his way.

Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, Klaus sped past her and down the stairs. Ben kept guard at his back in case the woman decided she didn’t want to let them go after all.

Klaus stumbled down the stairs and found Sam at the bottom, holding Sari’s hand tightly.

“See?” Sam said in a light tone, clearly relieved. “I told you Klaus would take care of your brother.”

Sari reached out for her brother, and Klaus transferred the toddler into her sturdy arms. Sam was quick to herd them towards the door.

He would have made it.

Klaus stopped as a familiar ghost made himself known, easily taking hold of Sam and dragging him down the hall. The poltergeist grinned at Klaus.

“You were a delicious host. Won’t you join me again?”

Klaus shivered and Ben snarled.

“Sari, take your brother outside,” Klaus said, standing between the ghost and the children. “Run as fast as you can.”

“But--”

“Go!”

He heard her scramble away, and the door slammed shut. Klaus winced at the loud noise.

“Now, now,” the man came closer, running his fingers along Klaus’s chin. “That’s no way to look at someone who’s  _ been inside of you _ . Be nice.”

Klaus shoved the man away, and they were both surprised as the ghost stumbled back and fell to the floor. Klaus’s arms shone a faint blue.

“I can do whatever I damn well please, thanks.”

Ben let out a cheer, and Klaus looked to him. “Find Sam. I got this.”

His brother nodded and moved past the poltergeist and further into the house.

“What can  _ you _ do?” the ghost taunted.

“Hell if I know,” Klaus tapped further into that cold feeling in his chest, grinning madly. “Wanna help me find out?”

Ben drifted further into the house, checking everywhere for Sam. “Sam! Where are you?”

He heard a loud grunt and turned into the kitchen. There, up against the pantry door, his back digging into the handle and pressed flat a foot above the ground, was a struggling Sam. He tried to force himself away from the door, but each time he got any progress, the force of the poltergeist intensified.

Behind them, at the front door, there was a loud banging sound. Ben winced, hoping that Klaus would be fine. He had to trust that he would be okay.

“Sam,” Ben hurried into the room and reached out for his friend. He hesitated, though, just before he touched the man. He remembered the last time something like this happened, and how he was absolutely powerless to do anything.

“Ben--” Sam grunted. “Help--”

Well, how could he say no to that? Even if he failed, he would give it his best shot.

Ben felt for Klaus’s energy, surprised at the surge that washed over him. He shuddered, wondering where the power up came from. Was this Klaus actively helping him?

He grabbed Sam’s flannel easily enough, tugging on the fabric to the point it nearly tore. Getting Sam down would be harder than he thought. It was like the man was glued to the door.

He reached his arms around Sam’s waist, guiltily glad that the doorknob gave him just the right amount of space to reach around without having to go incorporeal.

Ben pulled with all he was worth, bracing his foot against the door to get some leverage. Nothing. He growled in frustration.

“You know what? Screw it.” Ben let go of Sam and looked up into his eyes. “Don’t freak out.”

He released the Horror and gave the command,  _ Listen to me. _

The Horror whined, wanting blood and meat.

_ Listen to me! _

The Horror stilled long enough to listen.

_ Help me. Please. _

**_Why?_ **

_ Because Klaus needs Our help. So does Sam. _

**_Sam?_ **

_ Yes. _

**_Where is Our brother?_ **

_ We need to help Sam so Klaus can do his job. _

The Horror waved back and forth, and Ben knew They were thinking.

**_We will help Klaus._ **

Ben grinned and looked back up to Sam.  _ Wrap around him and remove him from the wall. Then We can go back to Klaus. _

Sam gave Ben an honest, trusting look. How he could do so with such ease, Ben had no clue. The Horror was . . . well, horrifying. And yet Sam trusted him enough to not kill him. 

Tentacles wrapped around Sam’s middle, feet, and neck, then pulled.

Ben was honestly surprised that the Horror treated Sam so gently. Almost as gently as They treated Klaus. Sam would have bruises, for sure, but at least he wouldn’t have missing limbs.

Sam peeled away from the door like a sticker, so easy it was a wonder why Ben struggled in the first place.

“Sam!” Dean’s voice called out. “Klaus!”

More banging. Klaus made a taunt, but Ben couldn’t hear what was said.

The Horror placed Sam on his feet. Sam sighed, rubbing his neck. “Geez, will I ever not have something around my neck this trip?”

Ben smiled wide.

The smile faded as Sam’s face paled and his eyes settled on something behind him. Ben whipped around and was met with the burning ghost from earlier. Klaus had said it was the woman, but he couldn’t grasp any defining features then or now. It was doubtful Sam could, either.

_ Great _ .

The poltergeist didn’t play fair, but neither did Klaus, so really it wasn’t a huge deal except that the ghost brought in a weapon. Klaus was used to fighting dirty, using his lithe frame and his speed to his advantage in a fight. Meanwhile, the poltergeist tried for any advantage he could get, finding blind spots and bringing a knife to a fist fight. Which, rude.

One may wonder why Klaus wasn’t trying to send the ghost away. Simple. Ben needed his energy at the moment (he felt the shift as Ben tapped into it), so he couldn’t risk something happening to Sam  _ or _ Ben if he took that power back. Not until he knew Ben and Sam were safe.

If push came to shove, Klaus knew how to protect himself with everyday objects. Every time he reached for one, though, the ghost was there slashing at his arm. So far, Klaus was going through this fight without a scratch, but he wouldn’t last for long. His stamina wasn’t what it once was, all the smoking and drugs having an effect. The poltergeist, however, would never be drained.

And he knew it.

“What will I do with your entrails?” he murmured as Klaus ducked a swipe and ended up close to the ghost’s chest. He threw a punch at the ghost’s chest, sending him flying back into the wall. Pictures fell and glass shattered.

“Will I paint the walls with your blood?” he asked as Klaus folded in to avoid being sliced in half. Klaus put more distance between them, leaning against a decorative table and breathing heavily. Another swipe came down towards his head, and he rolled to the side. The knife embedded in the table and knocked over a knick knack.

There was a banging at the front door, startling Klaus enough that he just about got his throat slit. Instead, he got nicked down his jaw and neck in a “レ” shape. He winced.

“I would love to toy with you, make you scream,” the ghost said, eyes wild. Klaus stumbled back, holding a hand to the wound on his neck. It wasn’t deep, thankfully, but he’d have to get it taken care of pretty soon.

Another bang at the front door, and the wood splintered, showing Dean with an ax. Klaus let out a nervous giggle at the sight. “Sam!” the man called out.

Their eyes locked. Dean’s widened. “Klaus!”

A flash of silver in the corner of his eye and Klaus held up his arm automatically. A knife hovered inches from his nose, arm locked with the ghost’s. The poltergeist’s eyes widened as the blue glow from Klaus’s hands intensified. The power that Ben had been using shifted back to him.

Klaus’s grin, he was sure, was wholly  _ insane _ , but he couldn’t help the deranged laugh that tumbled from his lips.

“Looks like you’re my bitch now.”

He curled his free hand in a fist and sucker-punched the ghost right in the gut, and the ghost fell to the floor with a wheeze. He then brought his foot down, shoving the ghost further into the floor.

The  _ power _ that emanated from Klaus was  _ intoxicating _ . He brought a hand to the poltergeist’s chin, forcing the man’s face up to look at him.

“This is for all the people you murdered, you sick bastard.”

Klaus placed his free hand against the poltergeist’s forehead and closed his eyes. The sky blue glow of his powers swirled around him, invading even his closed eyes.

One moment, there was raw power and Klaus was on top. Then, Ben tapped back into his power and Klaus was shaken from his power high.

_ Ben and Sam weren’t safe yet _ .

The poltergeist cackled as Klaus’s power faded.

“Seems even you can’t stop me from my destiny.”

Oh hell no.

The ghost came forward, and Ben brought out the Horror again, growling deep in his chest.

It--she--whatever, kept advancing, not looking at all disturbed by the raging tentacles inches from her face.

Pounding footsteps sounded next to Ben, and he briefly glanced away from the fiery ghost. Dean came barging into the kitchen, gun held aloft.

“Klaus?” Ben asked.

“Supernova right now. He’s got it.”

Ben nodded and turned back to the threat at hand.

Before he could do anything, however, Sam reached out and held Ben’s shoulder. “No! Wait. I know who it is.”

“What?” Dean asked.

“I can see her now,” he whispered.

The ghost stopped right before Dean, the flames growing higher and higher. Ben shifted nervously.

And then the flames blew out like a candle, leaving behind a woman with blonde hair and dark green eyes in a white nightgown.

Dean startled, and Ben was just about ready to attack again, when he said, “. . . Mom?”

The woman smiled, eyes soft and crinkling. “Dean.”

Dean swallowed heavily, looking near to tears. The woman placed a hand on his cheek, pride in her eyes.

She directed her eyes behind Ben to Sam, removing her hand from Dean and walking towards the younger of the two. Dean watched her go with longing in his gaze.

“Sam,” she greeted, stopping in front of the man. Ben moved aside to give them space.

Sam teared up, looking like he wanted to hug the woman but unsure if he should. “Mom,” he whispered, shaking. “Y-You . . . You were here the whole time?”

The woman’s smile fell as she took in all the details of her son, eyes still sparkling but a hint of sorrow creeping in.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“For what?” Sam asked.

She hesitated, lips parted to tell him, but then she decided against it and backed away, smile returning.

“I’m glad I could meet you,” she said to them. Dean smiled back, a weak little thing. Sam had tears flowing freely down his cheeks now, not bothering with pretenses.

The peace was disturbed by Klaus’s scream, and they all (except the woman) started. The woman held up a hand when Ben went to run for his brother, and he had to bite back the violent growl he felt rising in his chest when he saw the hardness in her eyes.

“And  _ you _ ,” she bit out. “Get out of my house.”

She burst into flame again, and flew down the hall and straight into the poltergeist. They both burned away, the poltergeist with wailing screams.

It was silent except from Klaus’s cries.

Really, Klaus was an idiot. He really didn’t think. That’s all. He just didn’t use his brain and now his arm had a knife sticking out of it clean through from one side to the other, blood dripping steadily from the wound. He gagged.

Man, if Five were here, he was sure his brother would be laughing.

He had gotten too cocky when he felt that rush of power, thinking he could take the poltergeist out in one go. When it hadn’t worked, when Ben needed his power more, he freaked out, mind going blank on what to do other than let instinct kick in.

It was sickening to think, but he had been grateful for his father’s training lessons in that moment, no matter how awful they were. It’s what kept him alive for those few seconds.

Of course, his arm had been sacrificed because of it.

His instinct said protect his head, so he did. The knife sunk right through his pale arm like it was nothing stronger than paper.

It didn’t even hurt at first. His brain just couldn’t comprehend what had happened. He just . . . stared at it weakly while someone screamed and screamed and  _ screamed _ .

And then his brain caught up when the blood began to pool at his feet.

He felt faint, breathing coming in way too fast but not enough, his vision whiting out for a moment before coming back into sharp clarity.

The  _ pain _ .

He had never felt pain like this before. He was always lookout when they were kids. He didn’t get hurt. The worst thing that ever happened to him was when he “fell” down the stairs as a kid, but he had thankfully blacked out after he fell and was on drugs for the rest of the time.

This, though. This was something  _ new _ , and he couldn’t handle it.

His arm shook, his nerves sending  _ pain, pain, pain, PAIN, _ signals to his brain, all while he stared at it.

He couldn’t stop staring.

The knife  _ burned _ , like it was made of lava. He wanted--no,  _ needed _ \--it to stop. He wrapped his white (were they always so white?) fingers around the rubber end and  _ pulled _ .

And, well, that just made it  _ worse _ . His vision went black, and when he could focus in again, he was laying in a puddle of blood that was steadily growing. The bloody knife had clattered from his hand and landed a few feet away, a trail in its wake.

He was still shaking, he couldn’t seem to  _ stop _ , and he could still hear that terrible screaming. His arm went from feeling like it had been hit with lava to feeling like the lava had entered his system and was being pumped throughout his whole body, originating from his arm. He couldn’t stand it. He’d rather the limb was  _ gone _ .

Hands (warm, warm,  _ hot _ ) were there, then, lifting his head from the floor and setting it down in a lap. The smell of motor oil and beer invaded his nose. Dean.

“Dammit, Sam! Call an ambulance! He’s in shock!”

“Klaus!” Ben’s voice. “Klaus, can you hear me? Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay--”

“Sam!”

“I’m working on it!”

“Klaus--”

He just wanted it to  _ stop _ .

“Stab wound. Straight through the arm. Possibly nicked an artery.”

Someone swore heavily and fingers snapped in front of Klaus’s face. He jerked.

“Stay with me, Klaus,” a gruff voice. “Stay with me, man. They’re on their way.”

“Klaus, keep looking at me. You’re gonna be fine--”

“Klaus!”

“Klaus!”

He faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)  
> Thank you for reading! Any inaccuracies, lemme know. Any weird stuff, lemme know. Anything you just wanna talk about, lemme know (seriously, hmu, I love a good tea)


	38. I Couldn't Stand the Person Inside Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus is . . . dead? Maybe? Dean is about ready to throw some punches if he isn't given some news soon. Ben wants his brother back to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.  
> I have been . . . absent  
> I have had a raging headache for the past eight days and have barely been able to get my exams done. I've mostly been sleeping and trying to get this migraine under control. I finally was able to get this chapter done, but it's not edited. Not that I really care atm. My dudes, I'm just happy I was able to write tbh. I needed it this week and the fact that I wasn't able to do so without making my head pound made me want to cry.  
> Lol, anyway, enjoy

It was close. It was  _ too damn close _ . The paramedics said they almost lost him on the way to the hospital and Dean couldn’t help the absolute  _ panic _ that settled over him the longer he had to wait for good news.

Well, at this point,  _ any _ news. His nerves were shot.

“Dean . . .”

Dean glanced up from his pacing, eyes locking with his younger brother. Sam held up the phone, lips pursed. “What?”

“Just got off the phone with Missouri. Says she’s on her way now. Jenny and the kids are fine.”

Dean nodded. “Good. That’s good.” He resumed his pacing.

“Can you sit down already? Your pacing is making me crazy,” Sam said.

The older grumbled but did as he was told. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the waiting room doors, silently daring them to remain closed with no news.

His leg started to bounce.

“Oh for the love of--” Sam threw his hands in the air. “Look, Dean, I’m just as stressed as you are. Maybe take a break and get some air?”

“Can’t,” Dean shook his head. “What if someone comes with news while I’m out?”

Sam let out an exaggerated sigh. Dean just raised a brow at him, daring him to change his mind.

“Fine, but just stop-- _ this _ ,” he gestured to all of him.

Dean pointed it out. “You gestured to all of me.”

“Yeah, because you’re about to shake down the whole damn building with your anxiety.”

Dean frowned, glancing down to see that both of his knees were now jittering. His seat squeaked with the movement. He groaned and sat forward, hands rubbing his eyes and elbows resting on knees. They stilled, if only so he didn’t jab his eyes out.

“He shouldn’t have been there,” Dean said.

“Would you have stopped him?”

“No . . .”

Sam scoffed, but he didn’t say more. Didn’t need to say more.

“You think he’ll be alright?” Dean asked.

Pausing, Sam pursed his lips and his brows came together in thought. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I wish we could talk to Ben right now. At least then, we’d have a clue as to what’s going on.”

Dean nodded absently, gaze drifting away.

“What will we do if . . . if it’s not good news?” Sam pressed.

Biting his lip with a wince, Dean said, “Get him back on his feet, somehow.”

“Am I dying? Or . . . Or dead?”

Klaus stood, ramrod straight, over his body as doctors fluttered about, trying to keep him alive. Monitors and machines wailed as his heartbeat slowed to a near stop and his skin turned translucent and waxy. A mask had been on his face earlier to supply oxygen, but now they were shoving a tube up his nose and down into his lungs. The wound in his arm looked ghastly, covered in blood and still weeping, seeming to have a never ending supply of that  _ red _ . The skin was tattered and did nothing to hide the muscle and bone beneath. While doctors tried their best to stop the bleeding, it just kept  _ going _ .

He couldn’t stop staring at it.

“Klaus?” Ben’s shaky voice didn’t draw his eyes away, but he acknowledged his brother with a small tilt in his direction. “Klaus, please look at me.”

“Isn’t it ironic?” Klaus asked instead, gaze still glued to his arm. They were supplying blood, now, working rapidly to fix him. There was no way he was going to make it at this point. “The ghost whisperer, dying because of a ghost.”

“Klaus--”

Klaus let out a choked laugh, suddenly spinning away from his body ( _ his body _ ) and whipping his crazed look around the room, hands flying about. “I’m dead! Or will be soon, anyway.”

“I-I don’t think--”

“Why else would I be a ghost outside myself?” Klaus asked, eyes settling on his trembling brother. His smile fell at the tears gathered in Ben’s eyes.

“I don’t know!” Ben fisted his jacket sleeves, face pale. “But-But you can’t be  _ dead _ . You can’t be. Not after all those times you overdosed and nearly froze to death and woke up after being beaten and . . . a-and . . .”

Klaus took a small step forward, but Ben drew away from him, fear flashing across his face. The Horror wiggled under his clothes.

“Th-They don’t believe it either,” he gestured to his stomach, at the tentacled beast writhing around. Klaus saw one poke out from under black fabric and wave at him. “So you  _ can’t be _ . Maybe . . . maybe it’s a new thing?”

“Do my arms look glowy to you?” Klaus asked, holding up said arms. The body ( _ his body _ ) on the table wasn’t glowy either, just laying there like he was--like it was really dead.

“Well . . .” Ben bit his lip, and Klaus sighed.

“Face it, Benny. Seems like I’m really gone.”

Ben sniffled and violently brushed his tears away, anger suddenly taking over. “You  _ asshole _ . You're not allowed to  _ die _ .”

“I didn’t really have a choice in the matter--”

“You could have asked for help! Or--Or something, I don’t know.” He pushed a finger at Klaus’s chest. “What about Vanya, huh? What is she gonna think when you don’t call?”

A pang erupted somewhere where Klaus’s heart was at the thought. Vanya, waiting all weekend to hear from her brother that wouldn’t call. Wondering if maybe she had been lied to, let down once more, that Klaus had abandoned her. That Klaus had  _ disappointed _ her.

Klaus let out a long, drawn out sigh. “Well, what can we do?”

“You could try to get back  _ into _ your body,” Ben suggested with a huff. He crossed his arms. Klaus just raised a brow.

“When has  _ that _ ever worked?”

Ben shrugged. “I don’t know. You can still  _ try _ . Your body isn’t dead  _ yet _ , so just . . . try to slip back in or something.”

Klaus let out a loud groan. “Fine.”

The medium came in closer to the table, the doctors working on fixing his arm and keeping a steady supply of medicine and blood flowing into his veins. Things were still pretty chaotic, machines still shrieking, but he tuned it out to focus on himself.

He took a deep, unnecessary breath, and closed his eyes before he placed his hands into his chest.

Nothing.

Peeking one eye open and seeing how his  _ hands were phasing through his body _ , he jerked them back to himself and let out a whimper. He did  _ not _ like that sensation. It felt like sticking his hands into soft, squishy pudding.

“Yeah . . . the feeling of phasing through living things is nasty,” Ben said at his shoulder. Klaus nearly jumped.

“Jeez, let out a warning, Ben.”

Ben had the decency to look abashed. “Sorry.”

“Well, touching me didn’t work. How do I do this?” he turned to Ben.

His brother puffed out his cheeks. “Maybe lay down in it? Pretend you’re trying to stick yourself to it.”

“If I didn’t like the feeling with just my  _ hands _ , what makes you think I’ll enjoy it laying down  _ in it completely _ ?”

Before Ben could retort, the machines began to calm down and the monitors slowed. Everyone in the room let out a collective relieved sigh as the numbers stabilized and a steady beeping filled the air. Klaus’s heartbeat was normal.

Klaus and Ben gaped at the readings.

“You’re . . . stable?” Ben asked.

“How?” Klaus came closer to himself and stared down at the slow, even rise and fall of his chest. “I’m not in me, I’m right here!”

“Maybe it’s because you touched yourself?”

“Ew, Benny, gross.”

Klaus watched in delight as his brother’s face became a flaming red shade. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

Klaus sobered and reached up to put his fingers in his mouth. “I mean, it would make sense? Right? But then why can’t I get back in? Can I magically heal myself? And what will happen the longer I stay out?”

Ben, of course, has no answers for him. His brother seemed to flounder, hands twisting so hard together Klaus was worried they might break (which was ridiculous; Ben didn’t have  _ bones _ ) and jaw flapping wordlessly like a flag in a breeze.

“Maybe . . .” Ben’s soft voice was finally made known. Klaus perked up. Ben licked his lips. “Maybe, for now, we find Dean and Sam and just . . . wait?”

Klaus pursed his lips. “I don’t know . . .” He didn’t want to leave his body like this.

“Well, maybe you can stay here, and I’ll look into what’s going on with the others. You’re still alive, so I can probably talk to them? Not touch, just . . . talk.”

Klaus nodded. Seemed like a pretty good idea. “Just don’t be too long. You’ll miss out on all the  _ family bonding _ we can do.”

Ben wrinkled his nose and Klaus snickered, but they both knew what he really meant.  _ Please don’t leave me alone for too long. I’m scared _ .

“Don’t get into trouble while I’m away.”

Klaus crossed his heart and threw up a two finger salute. Ben just rolled his eyes and left the room.

Klaus was left alone with his body. His skin itched.

Ben floated down the hallways until he found Sam and Dean in a waiting room. He got there just as a doctor walked in to announce what had happened to Klaus. Ben decided to wait until the doctor was gone before he made himself known to the Winchesters.

“How is he?” Dean asked right out the front gate. Sam was a step behind him, looking just as concerned. It warmed Ben’s dead heart.

“He’s stable,” the doctor announced. “We were concerned, what with the shock to his body and mind, and the grievous wound, that perhaps he would just . . . shut down. Boy’s a fighter.”

“Damn right,” Dean whispered under his breath. Ben chuckled.

The doctor went on, not bothering with tact after the initial good news was given. “He went into cardiac arrest on the way here, and we were able to restart the organ without defibrillators. It was a little touch and go in surgery, what with his blood refusing to clot around the wounded area until we could sew it back closed, and with how slow he was breathing. It’s steady, but his oxygen levels are too low to be considered healthy. We didn’t need to intubate him, but he has a tube running from his nasal cavity into his lungs to keep a steady flow of the correct amount of oxygen in his system.”

Dean relaxed at that, and Sam asked, “So, he’s fine now?”

The doctor hummed. “If that’s what you want to call it. We replenished his blood supply and have him hooked up to some of the good drugs. All we need to do now is wait until he wakes.”

“And how long will that be?” Dean asked.

The doctor paused, checking over his clipboard. “What did you say your relationship was with the patient again, Mr. . . . Hetfield?” He raised a brow.

“He’s our little brother,” Dean supplied.

The doctor didn’t seem convinced, but he let it go. “I see. Well, he  _ should _ wake up in the next few hours.”

“But?”

“But . . . nothing is conclusive. He lost a lot of blood, and the body needs time to heal from something traumatic like that. He’ll stay asleep for as long as that takes.”

Dean swore and ran a hand through his hair, while Sam bit his lip and bounced on the balls of his feet in anticipation. Anticipation for what, Ben wasn’t sure.

“Can we see him?” Sam asked.

Oh, yeah, that would make sense.

The doctor checked his watch. “Visitation hours have passed, but family members are welcome into the room.” He raised a brow, as though wondering if they’d give up the jig.

They did not.

“Great. Let’s go.” Dean didn’t wait, moving past the doctor and towards the door. The others scrambled to keep up. Ben followed at a sedate pace, wondering just when Klaus  _ would  _ wake up, and if he had gotten any farther along in getting back into his body.

They entered the room, and Ben saw his brother pacing and biting his nails behind his prone body. Ben sighed and came up beside him. Klaus gave him a brief smile and a tiny nod.

“Oh . . .” Dean’s jaw clenched as he looked down at Klaus, eyes wide. Sam didn’t look much better, but he turned his worry into anger, it seemed. His face screwed up and his hands curled into fists. He looked about ready to punch something.

“It looks worse than it is,” the doctor explained, pointing to the monitors. “He’s much better than when he came in.”

Which was true. Klaus looked less like death and more like death warmed over. Pale, sickly looking, arm covered in white bandages, and hooked up to machines with tubes (lots of tubes). But he was breathing, and he looked like he was merely asleep.

Klaus, at his side, let out a small laugh. “Well, he’s not wrong.”

The doctor stayed for a few more awkward moments until he finally couldn’t stand it any more and left the room with a quiet, “Sorry”.

Sam pulled up a chair for his brother, who practically collapsed into it. All the energy left Dean at once, and he just stared at Klaus’s form with the most vulnerable look Ben had seen on him yet.

“Dammit kid . . .” Dean leaned forward and took Klaus’s hand, and a pang of sorrow ran through Ben.

“Now would be a good time to tell them what’s going on,” Klaus suggested.

Ben glanced his way. “You don’t want to help out?”

“No offense, but I have no idea how this ghost stuff works. You have a better idea,” Klaus’s eyes drifted back to his unconscious self. “Besides . . .”

Ben nodded, laying a reassuring hand on his brother’s arm. “I’ll do my best to make sure your energy doesn’t deplete any more than where it’s at.”

Klaus threw a grateful smile his way, and Ben’s face warmed at the giddy feeling in his chest.

Taking a deep breath, Ben felt for the familiar battery that he could tap into that was Klaus. He syphoned off just enough to talk to the brothers without making Klaus worse.

“Hello?” he tested.

Dean and Sam jumped, eyes searching wildly. Ben needlessly held up his hands.

“Whoa! Guys, it’s just me.”

“Ben?”

He grinned. “The one and only.”

“Ben,” Sam let out a sigh, face lightening. “You okay?”

Of course that would be Sam’s first question.  _ Of course _ they’d worry about him. He rolled his eyes. “Of course I’m okay. The one who isn’t is Klaus.”

“Yeah, well, we can see  _ that _ ,” Dean huffed.

Ben hummed. “Well, yes, but he isn’t really inside himself right now?”

Silence.

“Excuse me?” Dean stood up, eyes narrowed down at Klaus. “So, what, he’s taking a trip through the spirit world or some psychic crap?”

Ben laughed at Klaus’s offended face. “Honestly, we don’t know what happened. At first, we thought he was dead.”

Dean chewed on his lip and Sam paled. “Well, for a second there he was.”

Ben sobered. “I know. I don’t want to experience that again.”

The honesty surprised him, as it did Klaus. “What? You don’t want to spend eternity with your favorite brother?”

“Shove off, Klaus,” he groaned. “I don’t want you  _ dead _ .”

“Okay, so . . . Klaus’s ghost or whatever is outside his body, but he’s not dead. So . . . what does that mean? He’s in a coma?”

“Hell if we know,” Klaus whined. “I just wanna get back inside my body!”

Ben hummed in agreement. It wasn’t until Dean asked his name that he realized they couldn’t hear Klaus. “Oh, weird. Now  _ I’m _ the translator.”

“Now you know how I feel,” Klaus snickered.

“We’re not sure, to be honest,” Ben related to the brothers. “We’re trying to get Klaus back inside him.”

The older two nodded. “So, I guess we wait?” Dean asked.

“Guess we wait.” Sam agreed.

“I can’t talk to you guys like this for long. I don’t want to take away any of Klaus’s energy needed to heal. But I’ll let you guys know every now and then what’s going on, okay?”

“Thanks, Ben,” Sam said, throwing out a warm smile to . . . well, everywhere, since they had no idea where Ben was. Ben smiled back, then let the energy he tapped into flood back over to Klaus.

“Okay, guess we’ll work on getting me back in action,” Klaus said, rolling up his sleeves.

Several hours later and Klaus was officially Done with the day. It was 6 am, Sam and Dean were asleep on the couch and chair respectively, Klaus had tried every position in trying to get back and was disgusted by the feeling of his own body, and Ben was looking two seconds away from releasing the Horror on the situation just so he didn’t have to be here anymore.

“Beeeen!” Klaus whined petulantly. An eyebrow twitched. “I don’t know what to do!”

“Let’s just take a break for a bit, huh?” Ben asked, massaging his temples. Yes, Klaus knew he was annoying his brother, but he did it so well. He was so bored, and needed  _ some _ kind of distraction from the fact that he was practically a ghost. What better way than to damage the one good relationship he had?

“Do you have some cards we could play with or something?”

“No, sorry, I’m fresh out of anything entertaining,” Ben said sarcastically.

“No need to be all mean, Benny. You’ll get wrinkles with that kind of sass.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Klaus.”

Klaus shrugged. “Okay. Well, what  _ else _ do you have with you?”

Ben gave him a Look. Yeah, Klaus knew, okay, but it was so  _ boring _ . How could Ben  _ stand _ this?

“You know, once I figure out how to make dead people alive again, I’m doing it, because this is just  _ sad _ ,” Klaus declared.

Ben quirked a brow. “You think you can do that?”

“Dunno. I don’t know a lot about me right now.”

Ben snorted. “I never thought there’d be a day.”

The back and forth was interrupted by the door opening. In an instant, Dean and Sam were on their feet in a stance (luckily without weapons), facing an unimpressed businesswoman in the sharpest, tallest heels Klaus had seen. Her pantsuit was proper and pressed, hair plaited to one side, and she strolled in like she owned the place.

“Hello. My name is Aubrey Michaels,” she introduced to the men. They relaxed when they realized it was just a human. She gave them a curt, plastic smile. “I’m from Child Protective Services.”

Oh. Well.

Damn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Once this mess is over, I'll keep a better schedule. Thank you for your patience ;-;


	39. And I'll Call You When the Party's Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michaels finds out some things. Klaus still has no idea how to get back. Dean is losing his temper over this whole mess. A new challenger appears . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm done with my exams! Whooo! Means I have a whole month to just catch up on projects.   
> This chapter was fun! Loved upping the tension to 9000. Good times.

Dean was about ready to throw a punch. The only thing holding him back, Sam was sure, was that if he reacted violently, then it would just be more proof against them. Not that there was any  _ proof _ to begin with.

Sam was nearly ready to join in, but he knew the law, and he knew how these things went. He didn’t go to Stanford for nothing.

“Go over, again, why he needs to be placed in Child Protective Services’ care?” Sam asked calmly, eyes narrowed but brows drawn together in thought.

“As I explained,” Michaels said patiently, opening her folder to a certain page to read the fine script, “Klaus Hetfield, as you say his name is, procured a severe injury that almost cost him his life, in a manner that is highly unlikely to have occurred naturally or in a fit of self harm. I was called by the hospital because of these worrying facts, and came as swiftly as I could. The wound is from a knife, straight through his arm and to the other side, and from the positioning it is nigh impossible for it to have happened by him or by accident.”

“But still possible,” Sam interrupted. The look she gave him could freeze hell over, but he was used to such looks. “Like we told  _ you _ , it was an accident.”

“Forgive me for seeming unprofessional, but I don’t believe that for a second,” the venom in her voice took Sam by surprise. She closed her folder and crossed one long leg over the other. “When I first came in, you two seemed ready to attack me. That, firstly, is not normal behavior, and begs the question of whether  _ I _ am in a safe environment, let alone a child.” She gestured to Klaus.

“Our father was a Marine,” Dean explained, not without a hint of anger in his tone. Sam threw him a Look, warning him not to get riled up. She wanted a reaction, especially if it was violent. Dean pursed his lips and rubbed a hand along his jaw to keep himself calm, but his knee started to bounce again. “He taught us to be careful and ready for anything that came our way.”

“And Klaus?” she jutted her chin towards the bed. “Was he also taught to be a child soldier?”

“Now hold on--” Dean said, ready to leap to his feet. Sam kicked his shin to shut him up.

While, yes, Klaus  _ was _ raised by a man that made him into a child soldier, telling her the truth would not go well. Him and Dean were raised to protect themselves from the things in the dark. Very different from Klaus’s experience.

“Our father raised us appropriately,” Sam said, making sure his words were clear and precise. “We learned to protect ourselves, not to harm others. Self defense is different from intentional harm.”

She narrowed her gaze at him, chewing on her cheek as she seemed to go over his carefully placed wording. “At what age did you begin self defense training?”

“For me? Ten years old,” Sam said. “Dean was placed in martial arts training when he was around six.”

“Which martial arts were you trained in?”

Dean answered this time. “Kickboxing. Well, and wrestling. Dad was a champ in high school.”

“Uh huh,” Michaels still looked skeptical at best, but allowed the topic to slide for the moment. “And the knife wound? What’s your story for that?”

Luckily, they did have something planned for this. Sam took the lead. “We were cooking dinner. Klaus is clumsy on a good day. He slipped and the knife, being on a drying rack . . .” he mimed the action.

Michaels raised a brow. While possible, it seemed  _ highly _ unlikely. “What, may I ask, were you making?”

Sam knew what she was doing. She’d ask Klaus the same question when he woke up, and, depending on the answer he gave, if it didn’t line up, she would know they were lying and most likely take Klaus away.

That couldn’t happen.

Good for them that they had two resident ghosts to help keep the story straight.

“Spaghetti,” Sam answered. “Klaus was in charge of cutting up the tomatoes for the sauce.”

Michaels hummed, and her fake smile reappeared. “Well, I suppose we won’t know everything until Klaus can tell us.” She stood, brushing off her impeccable suit.

“No, guess not,” Dean grunted. He glared at her as she moved out of the room.

As soon as she was gone from the room, and they gave her enough time to walk far enough away from the door, Sam asked, “Could you maybe  _ not _ antagonize someone who might have access to police records and criminal charges?” 

“What? She was getting on my nerves!”

“Of course she was, Dean! That’s part of her job.”

Klaus worried his lip as he paced back and forth at the foot of his bed, his body still comatose but alive (somehow). Missouri had gotten here just a bit ago, and the older brothers were catching her up on what was going on. They just got to the part where “Aubrey Michaels” had asked about the pretend dinner they were making when the woman glanced up.

“Boy, if you don’t stop worrying, you’re going to give me an ulcer,” she said towards the general area of where Klaus was. He gawped at her, then remembered she could feel spirits. He technically was a spirit now, and was highly stressed. It was probably enough to clog her senses or whatever.

“Sorry, Missouri,” he sheepishly sat on the edge of the bed and listened in to the conversation.

“Now, I don’t know what you boys are gonna do about this situation,” she said, “but I think the first order of business is getting Klaus back.”

“I’m trying!” Klaus whined.

“Don’t you whine at me,” she pointed at his prone body. “You got yourself in this mess. Find a way out.”

Klaus groaned and gripped at his curls. “I’ve tried everything. Nothing is working.”

They, of course, didn’t hear him, but he frowned anyway and flopped across his body’s legs. Still did nothing, but the dramatics helped him feel a little better.

“Klaus,” Ben said, phasing through the wall and stepping up beside him. Klaus glanced up at his brother, the worried look in his eyes sending Klaus’s stomach to his toes.

“What happened?” he asked, sitting up.

He had sent Ben out to follow the CPS agent, both as a spy and in case she found something that would take Klaus away. The nervous air around Ben told him that it wasn’t good news.

“Michaels found dirt on Dean. Photo evidence, too. She’s planning a way to tread carefully and has already notified the police of a murder suspect.”

“Damn,” Klaus put his head in his hands. “Alright . . . Alright, we can work around this, still. We just gotta be careful--”

“Klaus,” Ben said tiredly. “That’s not the worst bit.”

He snapped up to face his brother. “What?”

Ben grimaced. “She found a poster, too. A, uh, a missing person poster.”

Klaus blinked, unsure if he followed what Ben was saying. 

“Reginald is searching for you, Klaus,” Ben confirmed.

The wind left Klaus’s sails so fast he was sure he dissociated a bit. Then, the shakes began.

“What? Why? Why now?” Klaus tangled his fingers in his hair and tugged. He didn’t feel a thing, and that made him tug harder. “Why is he looking for me? Did he find out about the ghosts somehow? Or did one of the others voice their worries and now he knows I’m out of his reach?”

Ben’s jacket soon filled his vision, arms wrapping tightly around him and keeping him from flying away in his haze. Klaus removed his hands from his hair to grip at Ben, the shaking getting worse.

“It’s okay, we’ll figure it out,” Ben whispered. “You  _ won’t _ be going back to that house. Never again.”

Klaus nodded against his shoulder, but he wasn’t sure if he could say that for certain. Reginald was a powerful man. He could make anything happen. If he wanted Klaus, he’d get him back.

“I can’t go back  _ there _ , Ben. I can’t! I’ll die!”

He meant it. If he was forced back into the mausoleum, he would die because of the ghosts. Because they were  _ real _ , now. He couldn’t go back there.

Ben’s grip tightened. “I won’t let him take you there,” he vowed. “We can make me real again. I won’t let him do that to you.”

A part of Klaus believed him. Had seen it in action. Another part was a scared little boy in a cold, stone tomb who begged to be free, but couldn’t. Free and on the road and far from Reginald. He couldn’t ever escape the man’s reach, his influence. Not unless the bastard was dead. And even then . . .

“Klaus?” Missouri’s voice cut through the fog. “Ben? Is everything alright?”

“You should tell them what’s happening,” Klaus whispered.

“They can wait five seconds,” Ben scoffed. “Calming you down is more important right now.”

Warmth spread from Klaus’s gut to his toes. He smiled, despite himself, into Ben’s shoulder. He buried his face further into the crook of Ben’s neck, squeezed once, then let go. Ben stepped back, but looked him over worriedly. Klaus flapped a hand.

“Go tell them what’s going on, momma bird.”

Ben snorted, but did so anyway, with only a backwards glance when he stopped near the others. Klaus waved him off with a small smile. He’d be okay. Maybe.

While Ben explained the situation, Klaus pulled his attention back to his body as anxiety rolled over him. 

How on earth was he supposed to get back inside? If this was really part of his powers, then shouldn’t there be some sort of instinct he held that would allow him back into his body? How would they get out of this mess?

Dean shot up from his chair, drawing Klaus’s attention. The man began to pace aggressively, like a caged tiger. “If she knows about what happened in St. Louis, there’s no  _ way _ we can get out of this legally. And if Klaus’s dad is in on this now . . .”

“But if she’s from CPS like she says, then shouldn’t she also know that Reginald branded his children?” Sam asked. “That would be incriminating.”

Dean waved his hands around. “The tattoo is covered by stitches and bandages. She can’t exactly check it over. Besides, what if the blame is shoved onto us for that, too?”

“The tattoo isn’t really new, Dean. It’s easy enough to tell that it’s old.”

“Either way,” Dean growled. “Klaus will be taken away from us. I can’t allow that to happen. He’s been making so much progress lately, him and Ben, and . . .”

If Klaus was in his body, he’s sure his face would be heating up. He couldn’t feel it, but Ben smirked in his direction regardless. Klaus pouted at him and looked away, embarrassed.

“Ben, too,” Sam frowned, picking at his flannel shirt in thought. “I promised Ben we would start a book club soon. If Klaus is taken away, we won’t be able to see Ben, either.”

Dean pointed at Sam in agreement, and Ben twisted his hands together.

“Well, what if we ran with him?” Dean asked.

Sam’s face went blank, but he didn’t retort.

“No,” Missouri shot down immediately. “You boys will look highly suspicious if you do that. Better to play it safe, keep your heads low, and figure another way out that doesn’t involve--”

Whatever she said next was cut off by the door opening and two people walking inside. Michaels and the doctor in charge of Klaus. The doctor outright glared at the others in the room, but Michaels threw on that false smile she always wore, trying to be diplomatic, Klaus assumed.

“Gentlemen,” Michaels nodded to the older brothers, then Missouri. “Ma’am. I have found some . . . interesting information I’d like for you to clarify.”

Dean grit his teeth, but politely sat back down in the chair. Sam and Missouri remained seated on the couch. There was one other chair, but Michaels didn’t sit, Klaus noted. Her muscles were tense beneath her suit, but she hid it well.

The doctor came up beside Klaus’s body and began to check over his vitals and if there had been any change in the last two hours. There hadn’t been, of course. Not even much brain activity. Klaus was pretty much dead, except that he was alive. What a contradiction. Basically spelled out Klaus’s entire existence.

Michaels brushed her braid behind her back and held up a folder for the others to see. “Klaus Hargreeves, age sixteen, went missing from his home in Toronto, Canada on September 20, 2005. Reported by the father, Reginald Hargreeves, a few months later in December of the same year.”

Wow. A full four months had gone by before Reggie even realized he was gone, huh? As if. Something must have happened . . .

His first call to the house. Reginald must have heard his siblings freak out over him and figured out he was still alive somewhere. Probably had one hell of a “training regimen” prepared for him when he got back.

Klaus shivered.

“He had assumed that Klaus was at one of his private safe-houses,” Michaels went on. “He had been sending money into his child’s bank account for those months. It wasn’t until the money stopped being spent that he grew suspicious. The butler was sent out to prove if Klaus had been in one of the safe-houses. He came back with a report in the negative.”

Sam was basically absorbing all the information being given, while a vein popped on Dean’s forehead. Missouri was stoically listening, but her hands were gripped tight to her purse.

“Mr. Hargreeves decided to put out a missing person’s report immediately. He was concerned that perhaps Klaus had been kidnapped, and that the money he had been sending to his account was being used by his kidnappers, and they stopped spending because they wanted more. He has been expecting a demand for nearly four months now. As you can see, this all clearly distresses him and the family.”

What a load of crap. That’s how Dean would put it, anyway. Dad didn’t give a damn and was only now “concerned” because his pet project left the city far behind. Michaels might have even exaggerated some of it, too, to get the Winchesters to confess or feel guilty or something.

“What’s that got to do with us?” Dean asked, hands fisted at his sides.

Michaels looked up from her report, eyes steely and ice cold. “You should know, it’s my job to keep these kinds of children safe.” She flipped around a photo for the others to see. A picture of Klaus, painted, like Five’s portrait in the living room and most likely done soon after Klaus went “missing”. He looked kind of stupid in the picture, face in a goofy smirk and eyes proud. The haunted look, the bruises beneath his eyes, the hollow cheeks, all of it was gone, replaced by a “healthier” looking Klaus. That wasn’t him.

“So, tell me, Mr. Hetfield. Why does your ‘brother’ resemble a missing child?” Michaels still held her smile in place, but now it was more direct, pointed like a dagger at their chests.

Sam and Dean shared a look. The doctor moved closer to the woman, as though the brothers would attack her at any moment. If Sam and Dean really were what this woman was accusing them of, she was playing a dangerous game, assuming that they would get scared once the gig was up. Flounder with excuses. Clam up or run. The Winchesters were anything but.

They looked back to her, and Sam shrugged his shoulders. “No idea,” he said. “But they don’t look completely alike, right? You can see here, and here,” he pointed to the smirk and Klaus’s eyes, “that there’s a difference. Coincidence that they’re both named Klaus, and look kind of the same. Doesn’t mean they’re the same.”

The woman’s smile dropped into a frown, and with amusement, Klaus watched as Missouri hid her chuckle behind a dark hand.

“Well, then you should have no trouble going home and bringing back his birth certificate?” Michaels countered calmly as she replaced the picture in the folder. 

Klaus’s eyes widened, jaw dropping. Across from him, Ben paled.

The Winchesters wouldn’t have that. Hell, did  _ Reginald _ even have the original?

But the Winchesters kept their cool. They lied for a living. Klaus had heard a few of Sam’s stories, how their dad had trained them not to blink an eye when lying. They could bluff their way through the FBI.

“Sure thing,” Sam gave her a tight lipped smile. “Let me just . . .” he reached for his phone, in his back pocket, and the doctor visibly tensed at the woman’s side. Enough for the rest to notice. Michaels’ hands tightened on her folder, but her face remained cool.

“Relax,” Sam said calmly, pulling out his phone and narrowing his eyes at the doctor’s startled look. “It’s my phone.”

“I cannot allow you to use that,” Michaels said quickly. 

Sam raised a brow. “Why not? You wanted his birth certificate.”

“Klaus,” Ben shot him a terrified face over by the door. “The police are right outside the door. If there’s any indication that a fight breaks out, they’ll barge in.”

“She’s got a bug on her,” Klaus realized. “No wonder she came in here all high and mighty. She has back up.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Michaels nodded to Sam’s question. “I apologize. Proceed.”

Skepticism clear in his eyes, Sam asked, “Why do you not want me to use my phone?”

Michaels licked her lips, stalling for time. The tension in the air grew tenfold as her eyes darted to Klaus’s body and back, as though she wanted to grab him and run. What was with the idea of Kidnapping Klaus today? 

“What are we gonna do, Ben?” Klaus whispered. Ben just shrugged helplessly, then shook his head.

That’s when Michaels did the stupid thing. She rushed for Klaus.

Hell broke loose. Sam and Dean shot up from their seats, the doctor shouted in alarm, Ben yelped as the door to the room burst open and the police surged in, and Missouri let out a loud, offended gasp.

Klaus stepped between his body and Michaels, as though that would do something. “You are  _ not _ taking me away from them!” he shouted.

The strangest thing happened. Klaus held up his hands, intending to stop Michaels before she came closer. One second he was standing in front of her, and the next he stumbled as everything went black.

“Michaels!” the doctor called out. Klaus felt hands on him, steadying him. He blinked his eyes several times, trying to get them to focus. Black was replaced by blurred colors.

“What . . .?” he said. It didn’t sound like him, though. Too high pitched. He touched a hand to his throat, alarmed when smooth skin met his fingers. He pulled his hand away and stared at it.

It wasn’t his hand.

Slender, brown fingers with perfectly manicured nails greeted him. Something slipped from his shoulder and swung from the back of his head. A long, dark braid.

He looked up around the room, eyes locking with the doctor, who had a steady hand on his elbow (pantsuit, crisp and clean). The police had Sam and Dean in a tight hold, handcuffs glinting in the fluorescent lights.

Ben gaped at him near the door.

“Are you alright, Michaels?” the doctor asked him. Klaus blinked dumbly at the man.

What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If there are inaccuracies, please let me know. I have no idea what I'm doing lmao


	40. The Lies We Tell Ourselves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus, now possessing Michaels, has to figure out how to fix this whole mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Another chapter! Woohoo!  
> I have no idea how actual police procedures work, so please comment if it sounds like it's incorrect.

Michaels stumbled just before she reached Klaus, and Dean could have cheered. He wasn’t sure what happened, but she was down on a knee and holding her head, and Klaus remained safe for the moment.

Then he and Sam were being manhandled into cuffs and out the door, away from Klaus. Dean fought against them, but Sam kept giving him glares and he toned it down a bit. He couldn’t just leave Klaus alone like this!

“Wait!” Michaels’ voice sounded above the clamor and confusion, and Dean whipped around towards her, snarling. The woman took an involuntary step back, eyes wide.

“Leave the kid alone!” he shouted.

“De--” she cut herself off, cleared her throat, and tried again, “Uh, Mr. Winchester. Please calm down.”

“Like hell I’m gonna--”

“Dean,” Ben’s whisper in his ear gave him a full body shiver. “Calm down. It’s . . . That’s Klaus.”

“What?” Dean whispered harshly, eyes widening. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know how it happened, but somehow Klaus is in there. He’s in control of Michaels right now.”

Dean’s jaw dropped, and Michaels gave him a small, nervous smile. Her fingers twitched, playing with the hem of her suit jacket, and  _ dammit _ if that didn’t remind him of the kid.

_ What? _

The officers holding Dean in a tight grip stopped in their shuffling for the door, exchanging glances between one another.

“Miss Michaels,” one officer said, “Is something wrong?”

Michaels (Klaus?) straightened and brushed off her jacket, nodding. She looked like a kid trying to pretend to be a Serious Adult. “Yes, there is.” She gestured to the older brothers. “I made a mistake. We were having a pleasant enough conversation until I . . . lost my head for a bit.”

The officers exchanged looks again.

“Please, if you would allow for them to sit, so we can continue?” she asked.

“Miss Michaels,” an officer said, “with all due respect, our cover is already blown. We’d have to take this to the precinct.”

Michaels-Klaus gulped, but nodded along. “Right, of course. Will I be allowed to be present? It’s for the . .. child’s safety, after all.” Her nose scrunched at the word “child”.

The officer straightened. “I . . . suppose so. However, you will not be allowed to be alone with the suspects.”

“That’s fine!” she said, a bit too quickly. “Erm, thank you.”

Dean threw a look at Sam, his younger brother clearly out of the loop. Dean’s eyes pointedly glanced at Klaus, then to Michaels, and back, hoping Sam would get it with that big brain of his. Sam’s confusion didn’t clear much, but he seemed to have some idea of what was going on. He gave a tiny nod.

Michaels turned to the doctor and gave him a smile. “Please watch over m-Klaus, until I get back?”

The doctor nodded, standing tall and puffing up his chest. Dean raised a brow.

“Thank you!” she beamed and whipped around so fast her braid caught the doctor in the jaw. She strutted out behind a couple of officers, Sam and Dean behind her. Dean briefly caught the wink she sent to Missouri, the older woman’s lips quirking as they left.

Klaus had no idea what he was doing, but he was going to get them all out of this, with no one going to jail and nobody being sent far, far away.

Sam and Dean were placed in separate rooms, but Klaus could see them both from where he was, one-way mirrors on either side of him and a third in front, the room holding a man with a long beard and a cap. The man kind of looked similar to Dean, with the same build and a leather jacket, but outside of that the similarities ended. All three men were cuffed to the tables in front of them. 

“Miss Michaels?”

Klaus would have to come up with a plan that got everyone out of here. But to do that, he’d need to talk to the boys, privately. Hard to do when there are cameras and cops everywhere. Maybe if he slips them a note? But then how would he get it back?

“Miss Aubrey Michaels?”

Maybe not a note, but a code? He really wished he paid attention during those classes back at the Academy. They could actually be  _ helpful _ now. Unless Sam and Dean had their own code? Could he contact Bobby about that?

A hand rested on his shoulder and he just about jumped out of his skin. He flipped around, braid smacking his other shoulder with how fast he went. “Miss Michaels?” the cop at the end of the hand raised a brow, concern in his gaze.

“Oh!” Klaus gave the man a smile. “Yes, that’s me. Hello.”

The concern lasted for a few more seconds, but then it smoothed out to a professional blank face. The officer coughed into his hand, and moved to be at Klaus’s side. “Miss Michaels, I hope you understand that while here, you operate under our rules. I don’t know what you fellows do in the CPS, but here we have a system. If you want questions answered, you take it to one of us and we’ll ask.”

“ _ What? _ ” Klaus hissed. At his side, Ben glared.

The officer--who, now that Klaus got a better look at him, seemed much more important than the other goons--flicked his gaze to him and his jaw clenched. “We can’t allow civilians in the interrogation rooms. It’s against policy, for starters, and second, you aren’t trained to get information out of these guys. It’s a delicate process.”

“Delicate my ass,” Klaus huffed and crossed his arms. “Listen . . .”

“Chief Sanders.”

“Sanders,” Klaus flapped a hand. “I am here for the safety of a  _ child _ . I deserve to be in those rooms as much as you do! Besides, I was questioning them first.”

“You just sounded like a child,” Ben noted. Klaus just about stuck his tongue out at him, but settled on a stink eye instead.

“Miss Michaels, while it is admirable that you have helped thus far--and your bravery will not go unheard of--we can’t allow you inside,” Sanders shoved his thumbs in his pockets, jutting his hips forward. Klaus’s blood boiled.

“This is because I’m a woman, isn’t it,” he laid on the false hurt, eyes gathering tears. “You think I’m incapable of doing my  _ job _ because I’m a woman!”

Sanders’ eyes nearly popped from his skull. “What--”

“The slander! The outrage!” Klaus threw his hands in the air, just about whacking the man in the face. “I have just as many rights as you do. It doesn’t matter what’s in my pants! I fought hard to get where I’m at, and I’m  _ proud _ of it! And yet, here you are, saying that I am  _ worthless _ because of my sex? My predetermined  _ gender _ ?”

Ben was grinning like a fool at him. “I think it’s working. Keep hamming it up.”

Sanders looked like he swallowed a lemon and was currently choking on the peels. He went to interrupt Klaus, but Klaus wouldn’t have it. “No! You don’t get to interrupt me, not with your misogyny and mansplaining and derogatory terms. I should go to the higher ups and tell them all about how you abused my rights and threatened me, telling me that I can’t keep my job because of my  _ sex _ . I assure you, the public will be up in arms about it.”

At the mention of the public getting involved, Sanders went white. “Now hold on a minute--”

“Listen to me here,  _ buster _ ,” Klaus pointed a finger right at the man’s chest, making him back up. “There are cameras in here, and I’ll know if you tampered with anything. I can and will let everyone know what happened today. And all because you wouldn’t let me do my job!”

Sanders’ eyes narrowed, but he gulped. Klaus internally cackled. “What would you have me do about it? I can’t let you in there alone.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Then let me in with one of your buddies. I do my job, you do yours, and everyone goes home happy. Yeah?”

Sanders nodded, somehow paling further. Klaus let a smile creep onto his face, and Ben let out a loud snort.

“You look absolutely terrifying.”

“Good,” Klaus nodded. “Let’s go.”

Dean tapped his fingers on the cold metal table in front of him, trusting Klaus but also wondering how on earth the teen would get them out of this situation. He and Sam could probably escape the precinct without his help, but it was the trouble of getting Klaus out of that damn hospital that was worrying him.

Oh, and that bit about Reginald looking for Klaus.

He sighed and leaned back in the uncomfortable chair. If Reginald so much as  _ breathed _ in Klaus’s direction, Dean would throw punches. He didn’t care if the man was his father and could legally have a say in what happened to Klaus, Dean wouldn’t let the kid within a ten mile radius of the man ever again. Who knew what kind of abuses the man did to him?

Klaus didn’t speak much about his time in the Academy. He always clammed up at the subject. Ben was the one that told them most of what happened back then, and even then Ben was reluctant to say. Both of them had clearly been traumatized, but Dean didn’t know how  _ much _ , and it was killing him.

He knew of possibly three things in total. That Reginald had forced them to get tattoos, that they were raised as child soldiers rather than regular kids, and that Klaus was hiding something that gave him such intense nightmares that Dean was terrified the kid’s heart would stop in the middle of the night. During said nightmares, Dean had heard Klaus say stuff like, “please, no” and “Dad, let me out”.

If Reginald Hargreeves thought that Dean would willingly hand over Klaus because there might be a reward or whatever, the man had another thing coming.

A thought crossed Dean’s mind, and he sat a little straighter in the chair. If Reginald was seriously abusing his children and there was clear evidence stacked against him--

The door opened, letting in a short officer with choppy hair and Michaels-Klaus. Dean gave her a nod when she entered, and she smiled in return. In her hands was a notepad, and his eyes zeroed in on it.

“I thought, since you already used your rights to plead the fifth, that you could write down answers just for me to look at,” Michaels-Klaus subtly winked at him and placed the notebook in front of him.

Dean made a show of seeming disinterested, and said, “And why should I tell you anything?”

Michaels-Klaus ran sweaty palms on her pants, glancing to the officer in the room before she took a seat. “Mr. Winchester, whatever you say to me will be confidential. It’s for the safety of a child, and I legally cannot show it to anyone else.”

Dean called bull, but the wide eyes she gave him, pleading with her gaze to just  _ trust her _ , had him believing that Klaus knew what he was doing. He bit his lip, praying that this wouldn’t go horribly within the first five minutes.

He took the notebook and pen.

“Thank you,” she said, relaxing her shoulders. “First question: The birth certificate. Is there a way I can have that?”

Dean glared at her, willing for her to realize that that was a  _ really dumb question _ . Michaels-Klaus just gave him that  _ trust me _ look again, and Dean grit his teeth.

He wrote down his dad’s number, then Bobby’s right after, labelling both.

She nodded. “I need to have a look around your house, to see if it’s suitable for a child to stay in. May I have the address?”

He just about rolled his eyes, and gave a pointed look. She pursed her lips, but seemed determined. Fine. 

He wrote down Missouri’s address.

“Great. Thank you,” she smiled. “Last question.” She grew incredibly serious, eyes boring into his soul. He shifted uncomfortably.

“What do you know about Sir Reginald Hargreeves?”

Dean furrowed his brows together, no clue as to what she was asking. She  _ knew _ what Reginald was like--Klaus had lived with the abominable man his whole childhood! 

He wrote, “ _ Abuser. Hurt Klaus to an extent that even I don’t know. Mentally and physically. _ ” He underlined it three times.

When Michaels-Klaus read it, she teared up and ducked her head down, her braid slipping from her back and over her shoulder. Dean tapped the page again, wanting her to read the next part.

“ _ Want to help him. Please. _ ”

Her watery eyes locked with his, searching for something. He hoped his smile was reassuring.

She swallowed, took the notebook and pen in shaky hands, and stood. “Thank you, D-Mr. Winchester. I hope you and your brother find yourselves on a better path.”

Dean watched as she fled the room, being questioned as soon as the door closed. Klaus gave him and Sam the okay to leave. What was the teen planning?

Klaus held the notebook close to his chest, the beginnings of a plan taking root. It was stupid, and he was probably going to end up regretting all of his life choices, but it was the best plan he could concoct. He already informed Dean that it was fine to escape the precinct . . . he just hoped the oaf listened to him.

That whole conversation left Klaus reeling. Especially that last line . . . Dean was asking if he could help him through the trauma of his past. Dean  _ wanted  _ to know all of his failures and screw ups. He wanted Klaus to open up to him.

He wasn’t so sure he wanted Dean to find out regardless.

He was terrified that Dean would end up hating him. Or, worse, start saying the things that Dad did. He wouldn’t be able to handle that if his older-brother-figure decided to agree with Reginald.

“You know you’re being paranoid, right?” Ben huffed.

“Shut up,” Klaus grumbled.

“What are you doing now?” Ben tactfully changed the subject.

Klaus tapped the notebook with the pen. “We’re gonna fix up a file for Klaus Hetfield, then pretend like Michaels did the whole thing and just forgot. Even leave a note saying she got black out drunk or something.”

“. . . Okay, aside from the last part,” Ben said, “. . . that’s actually not a bad idea.”

Klaus stopped walking, right in the middle of the hallway. Ben expertly dodged around him, hissing when he accidentally touched his arm. He whipped to Ben, eyes wide. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Ben asked, rubbing his elbow.

“What you just said,” a smile grew on his face. “Repeat back what that was.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Well,  _ now _ I’m definitely not going to, asshole. You have a big enough head as it is.”

Klaus cackled, the sound weird coming from the lips of someone so dignified. He might apologize to Michaels later.

“Me! I have a good idea!”

“I said it might not be a  _ bad _ idea, not that it was good.”

“Ah-ah,” Klaus waved a finger. “You already said it. I’m taking it and running.”

“Klaus--”

Klaus ran ahead, giggles filling the hall and out into the open air as he headed for the nearest print shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This chapter gave me a headache.


	41. Trust In Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus sets about enacting his Plan. It . . . actually kinda goes well?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY SEASON 2 OF UMBRELLA ACADEMY!!   
> This chapter was like a last hurrah before the season dropped. I am very excited for the next season. You can tell because of how animated I am in my text here. Huzzah!  
> I am excited, lol, I'm just ridiculously tired today. Sorry if it doesn't seem like I'm on the hype train

Ben kept vigil outside the print shop while Klaus forged a fake birth certificate for “Klaus Hetfield”. It was pretty easy to do when he had Michaels’ phone and information on what a birth certificate looked like. He just had to make it look believable.

Ben wasn’t entirely sure what all the plan entailed, but a plan was a plan, and to be honest the plan was almost genius.

So far, the police had just let Klaus do whatever with the trust that he knew what he was doing, that he was actually Michaels. However, they did get strange looks and murmurs when Klaus would talk to Ben or when he did something that screamed “Klaus”.

He worried that their luck wouldn’t last and that someone would confront them soon. Klaus waved a hand dismissively.

The differences between Michaels and Klaus was large, that much was obvious. Klaus tried to replicate that serious air that Michaels put forth, but he was too stiff and not at all graceful. At least he could walk in her heels.

“Here it is!” Klaus exclaimed as he left the shop, holding up a well crafted, fake birth certificate. Ben grinned.

“Great. What’s next?”

“Well, mein bruder, next comes the details,” Klaus waggled his (Michaels’?) brows. He fished out Michaels’ phone and took a picture of the birth certificate, making sure he was far enough away from the shop that it wasn’t suspicious. Once that was done, he opened the notebook and started to scribble some words down.

“What are you writing?” Ben asked, coming closer to see. Klaus didn’t comment, but pulled the notebook back far enough for Ben to see.

Klaus was noting down everything on the birth certificate as well as some other things, such as the name of his “father” and “mother” (John and Missouri Hetfield) and the “uncle” (Bobby), and listed their numbers for Michaels to contact later, if she felt the need to. The first two were fake, but Bobby’s was real, and the page that Klaus had used to talk to Dean was already shoved in his pocket.

Klaus marked the time and date at the top of the page, and Ben raised a brow. “Going into a lot of detail there?”

He nodded, the braid bouncing. “The rest of her notes are super detailed. I just hope it looks the same and she doesn’t question it.”

“You have different handwriting,” Ben pointed out.

Klaus bit his lip. “I replicated it best I could, Benny. Maybe it’ll go along well with the idea that she went crazy or whatever.”

Ben snorted and shook his head. “Sure. Alright, what’s next?”

“We need Missouri,” Klaus snapped the notebook closed. “Hopefully she won’t mind pictures of her house being in the CPS database.”

Ben slowed to a stop and cocked his head at his brother. Klaus’s clicking heels came to a halt as he looked back at Ben. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Are you sure it’s all you in there?” he asked. “You’re being really smart, and know a lot of stuff that you shouldn’t.”

Klaus grinned, looking a bit too manic for Michaels’ poor face. “Oh, well, this is Michaels’ brain.” He tapped the side of his head. “I have access to lots of stuff in here. How else would I be able to walk in these killer heels?”

Lips curling in a smirk, Ben skipped to Klaus’s side again. “So you have all of her memories and stuff?”

“Hmm, more like muscle memory reactions to things,” Klaus explained. “If I think about something specific, a certain memory will surface. So, like with the interrogation, I knew somewhat of what to say and what information I needed.”

Ben nodded along. “The brain stores away files that can be brought back with trigger words or specific things that connect. It’s how memories are categorized. So, basically, you’re hacking Michaels’ head for how to dupe her.”

“Exactly.”

Ben laughed. “You never cease to surprise me.”

Klaus winked.

They arrived at Missouri’s place just as the woman did. She gave him a knowing smile and a quick hug before they entered.

“What do you need, honey?” she asked, closing the door behind them.

Klaus pulled out his phone and waved the notebook. “If you could, I would be grateful if you pretended to be ‘Missouri Hetfield’ and write down a detailed story of your relationship with ‘Klaus’. While you do that, I’m going to have a look around the house and take as many pictures as I can.”

Missouri pursed her lips, but nodded. “Alright. And if she comes by to question me?”

“Then keep her in this area,” he gestured to the front room. “I won’t be taking pictures here. We haven’t cleaned the salt.” He moved for the stairs, then flipped back around. “Oh, and Missouri?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Thank you so much for committing crime with me.”

Missouri huffed and gave him a cheeky grin. “Someone’s gotta keep you outta trouble.”

Klaus beamed and hurried up the stairs. Ben floated at his side as Klaus took detailed pictures of the rooms. It was a townhouse, but there were at least three rooms, two with beds and one with storage. It would be believable that Klaus was the only one still living here, and that Sam and Dean had moved out.

“The room is kinda bland, though,” Ben commented. “Wouldn’t a teenager have like posters and stuff everywhere?”

Klaus shrugged. “Maybe, but it’s got nice enough decoration.” The guest bedroom had a bed, a side table, and some cute things on the walls. He could picture himself living in it. “And from my fashion tastes, it would work just fine.”

“I guess . . . But it doesn’t have all the pizazz that you like. Where are the rainbows and the clashing colors that give me a headache? The fairy lights?”

“Haha,” Klaus stuck out his tongue. “If I  _ was _ living here, yes. But I’m not, so this will do just fine.”

Ben sighed and followed as Klaus moved on. Missouri’s home really was adorable. Lots of mystic stuff and cutesy rugs. It had a nice feel to the place. No ghosts, either, which was a huge bonus. Klaus would want to permanently stay here, if he could.

Ben had the same sentiments. “This place is soothing,” he said. “Maybe Missouri would let us stay . . .”

Klaus smiled. “Maybe. One day. For now, I think I’ll stay with Sam and Dean.”

Ben nodded in understanding. Klaus was grateful he got it. He met the Winchesters first, and they treated him more like a family than anyone ever had (other than Ben). It was comforting, being with them. Missouri was wonderful, and maybe when this hunting business was over, he’d stay with her. 

He clicked pictures of the kitchen, specifically the drying rack that he placed carefully to go along with their story, and made sure to note later how he “talked to the mother about making things safer for a child”. He didn’t like writing it out like that, but he had to make it believable.

When done with the tour of the house, he thanked Missouri and gave her another hug.

“You think this is gonna work?” she asked as they parted.

Klaus huffed. “To be honest, I have no idea. But at least it will give us a head start out of the state.” He read through what she wrote, snorting to himself at what she had decided to put down. John lost his wife in a fire a long time ago, after having three boys. He came to Missouri later in life, trying to get through his heartache. They married after a few years and raised all three boys together. She kept her maiden name for her shop, but she is “legally” known as Missouri Hetfield. “Great work, step-mom.”

She hummed. “What do I tell the boys when they get here?”

“Tell them to wait,” Klaus suggested. “I’ll be back soon, and in my own body.”

“You know how to get back?” Ben asked hopefully.

“Nope, no clue,” He clapped his hands. “To the hospital!”

Missouri giggled and waved him off, and he made his way to the hospital.

“We could drive her car, you know,” Ben said.

“Yes, but do we really want  _ me _ behind the wheel?”

Ben rolled his eyes but agreed.

On their walk, Chief Sanders stopped them. He was standing outside the station, and he waved Klaus over. Grimacing, Klaus made his way over.

“Miss Michaels,” he greeted with a tip of the hat.

“Sanders,” he acknowledged.

“It’s actually  _ Chief _ . . .” Sanders blanched, likely remembering Klaus’s blow up before, then changed directions. “Well, have you gathered all you needed?”

He nodded, tapping the notebook. “Yes. It’s all in here. Thank you for all of your help.”

Sanders grinned. Then he leaned in. “You feelin’ alright, Miss? You seem kinda . . . different from the other day. Jittery. A bit odd, really.”

“Are you calling me  _ odd _ ?” Klaus glared.

“No,” Sanders backtracked quickly. “Nothing of the sort. Just wonderin’ if you ate something and it didn’t agree with you.”

Klaus raised a delicate brow. “Oh?”

Sanders looked pained. “I mean no offense--”

“Then this conversation is over,” Klaus sniffed. “If you would be so kind, I left my car at the hospital and could use a ride.”

“Wow, Klaus.”

“Certainly,” Sanders nodded and rushed for the nearest vehicle. Klaus smiled wide when the man opened the door for him.

“Thank you.” He glanced to Ben and smirked.  _ See? I can be polite _ .

Ben rolled his eyes.

The drive to the hospital was awkward in every sense of the word, but Klaus  _ reveled  _ in the way that Sanders squirmed. Ben was quiet in the back, looking like he wished he were anywhere else.

Sanders pulled up to the hospital and Klaus was quick to hop out. He didn’t bother thanking the man or turning around when he called out to him.

“Wait a minute! Didn’t you need to go to your car?”

Klaus entered the doors without a word.

Klaus went in before Ben, and Ben was glad for it. He wasn’t sure what face the doctor had before he schooled his features, but Klaus’s (Michaels’) face screwed up in discomfort, so he really didn’t want to know.

“How is he?” Klaus asked the doctor. The man lit up and Ben’s toes curled.

“No change,” the man hummed. “It’s strange. He should be awake already. His vitals are stable, it’s just that his brain waves have ceased activity. For the injury that he received, that shouldn’t be possible.”

Klaus moved closer to himself and bit his lip, glancing to Ben. Ben shrugged.

“You said you didn’t know, how should I?” Ben circled the bed and sat in one of the chairs. “You have to hurry, though. You’re running out of time to get out of here cleanly.”

“I know,” Klaus groaned.

“What was that?” the doctor looked up from his clipboard.

Klaus waved a hand at the man. “Just wondering how we’re going to wake him up.”

“Well, according to this, he’s basically brain dead. The only thing we can do is keep him in a stasis. But . . . I really don’t think he’ll ever come to again.”

Klaus staggered, holding tight to the bed rail until brown skin turned white. Ben shot him a worried look. “Ben,” he whispered. “What if I really died, and now I can only travel from person to person like a . . . like a parasite?”

“What?” the doctor furrowed his eyebrows, but both teens ignored him.

“I . . . I don’t think that’s the case,” Ben said truthfully. The Horror growled Their agreement. “I think you’re just . . . spirit walking, or something.”

“ _ Spirit walking _ ?” Klaus hissed. “Does this look like spirit walking to you?” He gestured to the body he was currently inhabiting.

“Michaels?” the doctor placed a hand on Klaus’s shoulder, but he brushed him off.

Ben shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what to tell you, Klaus. It’s your powers, not mine.”

Klaus let out a startled laugh. “As if either one of us actually  _ knows _ our powers.”

“Miss Michaels, do you need to sit down for a moment?” the doctor offered.

“ _ Not now _ ,” Klaus snarled at the man, who just about jumped out of his skin.

“Klaus, focus,” Ben urged. “What did dad always have you do for training?”

Klaus shuddered and his glare turned on Ben. He looked  _ genuinely _ angry at Ben, for the first time Ben had ever known. “Daddy dearests  _ torture _ was  _ not _ training.”

A chill ran through Ben, and beneath the thin cover of the hospital blanket, Klaus’s body’s arms shimmered blue. He stood up, shaking his head wildly. “No, no! I don’t mean  _ that _ . I meant, what did he do to have you practice? Or develop your abilities?”

Klaus took a breath and calmed himself, the blue shimmer fading slightly. “Nothing. I vaguely remember him taking me to police stations to talk about cold cases, and sometimes we would have summoning sessions with a ouija board. Little did he know that  _ I _ was the ouija board.” He flapped a hand. “Nothing . . . nothing like  _ this _ .”

“Okay, okay,” Ben said. “Then let’s think.”

“I don’t  _ want _ to think, I want this to be over,” his brother whined.

“Then  _ do something _ !”

“I’m trying!”

Klaus’s hand (or, Michaels’ hand) smacked Klaus’s actual face on it’s careless journey through the air. Klaus dropped instantly, and Ben panicked.

“Klaus? Klaus! What happened?” He hovered over Michaels’ body, praying that whatever happened hadn’t hurt his brother.

A loud gasp interrupted his worrying, and Ben flicked his eyes up to see . . . Klaus? Klaus’s body was upright and shaking, and he removed the nasal tube. It came out goopy and covered in . . .  _ stuff, _ and Ben gagged.

“That’s nasty,” he commented.

“Ben?” Klaus locked eyes with him, and the realization of what just happened dawned on Ben.

“You’re back!” he beamed and jumped up. “You figured it out!”

“Well, more like it was an accident, but yeah,” Klaus smiled just as wide. “I’m back!”

They laughed until Klaus was breathless and Ben had tears in his eyes. Klaus held his stomach and groaned.

“I’m starving. Wanna get a pizza?”

“Wh-What was that?” the doctor held up a cross necklace, eyes huge. Ben winced, having completely forgotten about the man.

“And that’s our cue,” Klaus lept from the bed (and just about fell flat on his face when his legs wobbled), and ran for the door, snagging his clothes on the way out.

The doctor yelled something at them, but they didn’t slow. He didn’t follow, instead leaning down to check on Michaels.

“Wow!” Ben cackled. “What a trip!”

“I’ll say,” Klaus huffed at his side, not used to running this much, especially for having been in a coma for so long. “Better than the drugs!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! I am tired.


	42. Somewhere Above the Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus and Ben get in a fight. Klaus tries to help Sam. There's a divide: Sam and Ben vs. Dean and Klaus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooooooo boy. This chapter was . . . interesting.

Klaus and Ben met up with the Winchesters and gave quick goodbyes to Missouri.

“Don’t be strangers,” she said as she waved them off.

Klaus held up his phone and smirked.

Dean peeled out of the driveway and booked it down the road. It wouldn’t be long before the cops figured out that Klaus was no longer in the hospital, and that Sam and Dean had left town. Dean had left a trail for the cops to follow on a wild goose chase, but they’d pick up on it soon enough.

The good news? Klaus’s smart thinking got him away from the eyes of CPS. At least for now. No doubt that Reginald would try to come after him again. This time, though, the Winchesters would be ready for it.

It had been two weeks since the incident at the hospital. Klaus was developing his powers more fully. Ben was a constant near daily. Sam hadn’t had any new visions and Dean was doing well in processing all the crazy stuff that had happened. All together they were training to handle monsters other than ghosts (Klaus and Ben because they hadn’t met anything else yet, and Sam because he needed the refresher). 

Klaus’s wound was also doing well. They had taken out the stitches yesterday (which was odd, as it seemed like it was healing  _ way _ too fast to be normal), and they had weaned Klaus off of the meds the doctors had forced on him slowly, until he was off completely. He still scratched at his arms now and again, and he had to have a tight rein on what he could and couldn’t do (like leaving the motel without an escort, or going too far from where Sam and Dean were). It was a process, but getting better.

Things were going well for everyone.

“Don’t you  _ dare _ , you dick!” Ben shouted.

Well, almost everyone.

Sam sighed and closed the book he was about halfway through and walked to the motel door. Before he opened it, Klaus came storming in, Ben right behind him. Both were fuming and tensions were high. Sam folded his arms.

“What happened now?” he asked.

“Klaus is being unreasonable--”

“If anything  _ you’re _ the unreasonable one--”

“ _ No I’m not _ \--”

“Oh please--”

“Guys,” Sam raised his voice to interrupt the growing argument. Klaus turned away from his brother and pouted, while Ben scowled and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Sam raised a brow. “Can someone explain?”

Their voices overlapped one another and he held up a hand. “Ben--”

“Ha!”

“Come  _ on _ \--”

“And then Klaus,” Sam finished. “One at a time.”

“Klaus is refusing to call Vanya!” Ben exclaimed, near triumphant.

Klaus rolled his eyes. “You make me sound like the bad guy! I’m only refusing so  _ you _ can call her.”

“Okay,” Sam huffed. “Try again, from the top.”

Ben sighed and slumped against the wall. “Klaus wants me to call Vanya and talk to her, and he threatened to not call her until I do.”

“But Ben,” Klaus started, “is a scared little bitch about this. Vanya will  _ want _ to talk to you! I don’t see what the problem is!”

“Oh, maybe because I’m  _ dead _ ! Ever thought of that?”

“All the more reason!”

“And when she flips out? Klaus, she has anti-anxiety pills for a  _ reason _ \--”

“I think talking to your long-lost brother outweighs that--”

“You  _ clearly _ don’t know how anxiety works--”

“Alright, enough,” Sam shoved the two apart and held them at arm's length. “So, you want Ben to talk to an anxiety ridden sister who hasn’t heard from him in more than six months, and Ben wants you to call her and ignore the fact he exists.”

Klaus grinned. “ _ Exactly _ .”

“Now hold on a minute,” Ben frowned. “She knows I’m here! She just doesn’t know that I can talk to her.”

“When have any of our siblings believed a word I said?” Klaus asked.

“She sounded like she believed you over the phone. She was basically sobbing!”

Klaus considered that for a moment. He moved from Sam’s grasp to pace. “No, but don’t you see? That means it’s the perfect opportunity! She knows you’re real. And I told her that I can make you real! So you just sit down and talk--”

“But what if she thinks I’m not real?” Ben asked. Sam narrowed his gaze and pursed his lips. So, that was the deep seeded fear. “What if she hears my voice and thinks that . . . that I’m not real. Like the others thought I wasn’t.”

Klaus paused. “Well . . . But it’s  _ your _ voice,” he settled on. “She can’t deny that it’s you. She’ll have to realize that you’re real.”

Ben didn’t have a rebuttal. He hunched his shoulders in and his hood went up. Ben speak for  _ I am uncomfortable and don’t want to talk anymore _ .

Sam raised a brow at Klaus’s sigh. The middle brother of their odd family leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “I’m not going to call her until you do. So,” he shrugged, “I guess she won’t hear from either of us.”

Ben snarled at Klaus, then disappeared from under Sam’s hold. He blinked.

“Hey, don’t you walk away from this!” Klaus called out towards the door. He groaned and rubbed his temples.

“Well . . .” Sam cleared his throat. “That . . . could have gone better?”

“Tell me about it,” Klaus grumbled. He glanced at the book on the table and tilted his head. “What are you up to, all alone in here?”

Sam closed the book and scratched his neck. “Oh, it’s just . . . um.”

“Is that a book on criminals?” he asked.

“Criminal  _ law _ , actually,” Sam shuffled uncomfortably.

“Oh, right,” Klaus nodded. “You were going to be a lawyer before all . . . this.” He waved a hand around the motel vaguely. Sam quirked a smile.

“You could say that.”

“Are you still out to get Jessica’s killer?” Klaus asked softly.

The question came so far out of left field that Sam drew in a quick breath, muscles automatically tensing at the name. Klaus looked at him worriedly, but his question was innocent. Unlike Dean’s questioning of the matter, where he always had that underlying disappointment and pity.

Sam didn’t need pity. He needed to end the thing that killed Jess, or die trying.

(His mind flashed to a dirty motel bathroom, where Ben called him a bitch and said he was loved. His heart clenched.)

“Yeah,” he choked out. He coughed into his hand. “Yeah, I am.”

Klaus nodded, sympathetic and understanding. “We’re here to back you up,” he promised. “No going in for a sacrifice play. Right?”

Sam pursed his lips, but he gave a tense nod. Klaus was satisfied by the answer, so he came closer and sat in a chair. Sam joined him at the table, watching the other closely. Klaus allowed it, picking at his nails (they still hadn’t gone out for nail polish, but hopefully soon).

Klaus had advanced a lot, recently. Not only were his powers growing (and no, they hadn’t tested out his new ability to possess people, it was still too weird to try out), but he also relearned how to shoot a gun the other day. Dean was in charge of teaching Klaus hand-to-hand, but Sam offered to teach weapons. He hadn’t known how much fun teaching someone younger than him would be. He . . . he actually  _ really  _ liked it.

Ben had sometimes joined in on the training, but for the most part he stayed out. His excuse was that he was dead, and he didn’t need to learn stuff like that because of his powers. He and the Horror (which Klaus had jokingly called Jamin at one point, but the name was kind of sticking around) were coming to terms with each other, now that Their host was dead. A certain understanding was passed between them: They could both agree that Klaus was the number one priority, because he could make Them real and he was a calming presence to Ben. The Horror (Jamin) and Ben had bonded over their shared love of Klaus.

“You know,” Klaus’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he focused in on the teen. Klaus was still picking at his nails, but he seemed nervous, now. “I . . . could probably try to contact her.”

Sam stilled, breath frozen in his chest. “. . . What?”

This seemed to make Klaus  _ more  _ nervous. “Uh, yeah. Jessica, I mean. I could try to find her, talk to her. Maybe even bring her to the living world so you can talk to her?” He flicked his eyes around the room. “But you can say no! I mean, I don’t want to make things awkward or something, and I really wouldn’t want to hurt you or anything--”

“Klaus,” Sam placed a hand over Klaus’s, stilling the boy’s hands before he picked at them hard enough to bleed. Klaus’s eyes finally met his, and he smiled. “I would really . . . really like that. Thank you.”

Klaus’s shoulders fell from where they had hiked up during his ramblings. “Oh. Good. Yeah, okay.” He grinned. “Do you have something of hers? Like a photo or a ring or . . . something of the like?”

Sam dug in his pocket and brought out his wallet, pulling out the picture of Jess that he had never let off of his person since That Night. He hesitated in sharing it with Klaus, but Klaus was gentle when he took hold of it.

“You don’t have to let go,” Klaus said quietly. “It might even help if you and I both hold it. Another connection, you know?”

Sam swallowed past the lump in his throat and nodded. “Thanks.”

Klaus closed his eyes and searched through the fog of his abilities for  _ Jess, Jess, Jess _ . There was a faint presence hanging off of Sam, and he followed it along a path. 

Jessica Moore.

Sam said she died at twenty-two, Sam’s current age. It happened only two months before he met the Winchesters. She died on the ceiling of Sam’s and her apartment, her stomach bleeding and soon after being engulfed in flames.

He searched for a blonde haired woman, with green eyes and possible burn marks or a gashed stomach. The further along the path he went, the further away he felt from himself and Sam. He was drifting.

The connection grew stronger the further he went, but something didn’t feel right. He figured it out when something blocked him from progressing.

“What’s wrong?” he faintly heard Sam ask.

“There’s something blocking me . . .” he said, hoping it was loud enough for the other to hear.

He pushed at it, and it felt like a wall of some sort. Like the fog has suddenly become a solid force meant to block him out.

He knew that Jessica was on the other side.

“Jessica?” he asked. Maybe she could come through the fog and meet him in the middle. “Jessica Moore? Can you hear me?”

The connection wavered, and Klaus frowned. “No, wait, Jessica!”

The connection was lost and Klaus was thrown back into himself with a gasp. He trembled, sweat pouring down his back and from his temples.

“Klaus?” Sam leaned forward. Klaus barely managed to lift his head, the room swirling around him. Sam looked concerned.

“Yeah, sorry,” Klaus wheezed. “I . . . I don’t feel so good.”

“Water?”

Klaus gave a shaky nod and Sam was up like a bullet. Klaus closed his eyes to keep from hurling on the carpet.

Sam came back with a glass of water, and Klaus gratefully took it in both hands. He wanted to down the whole thing, but he was smart enough to know that doing that would only make him worse off. He took small sips.

While he was drinking his glass of water, Ben came back. His brother looked like he had been crying, but Klaus didn’t comment on it. He pulled out a chair for his brother and Ben sat down in it with a sigh.

“So, it didn’t work?” Sam asked, folding up the picture and putting it away.

“I felt her,” Klaus explained, hoping that Sam wouldn’t get mad at him. “She was there. But something was blocking me, and I couldn’t get through to her. She left before I could . . . well.”

Sam nodded, but he didn’t look upset, just so, so incredibly sad. Klaus didn’t like it. He wished he were better so that Sam could see his girlfriend. 

“It’s okay,” Sam said, lips flicking up for a moment. Klaus frowned.

“No, I want to work on this. Maybe . . . maybe next time it’ll work.”

“Thanks, Klaus,” Sam said, sincerity in his tone. “Just don’t overwork yourself.”

The door opened and Dean strode in. He paused when his eyes found Klaus.

“What the hell happened here?” he asked, grass green eyes scoping the room and then marking Klaus up and down for wounds. “Where’s Ben?”

Ben raised his hand and became visible for a moment. “Here.”

Klaus’s head pounded and Ben disappeared again for the others.

“Ah,” Dean sucked on his lip and came further into the room. “Did you tire yourself out, Klaus?”

“Something like that,” the teen chuckled. He took another sip, already starting to feel a little better.

“Did you find anything?” Sam asked, steering the conversation away from what happened. Klaus gave him a small glare, but let it go.

Dean held up a newspaper. “Yeah. Few things. Man shot himself in the head three times. Cow mutilations . . . and I got a text.”

“A text? From who?”

Dean scoffed and opened his phone to show the others. There wasn’t a name, but there were numbers.

“. . . Coordinates,” Sam whispered.

“Coordinates?” Klaus parroted. “To where?”

Dean shrugged. “It’s gotta be from Dad.”

Sam’s brows rose to his hairline. “You think Dad was texting us?”

“He’s given us coordinates before,” Dean pointed out as he grabbed Sam’s laptop. “The Wendigo, remember?”

“The man can barely work a  _ toaster _ , Dean.”

“Sam, this is good news. I mean, he’s okay--or alive.”

“Well, was there a number on the caller ID?”

“It was unknown.”

Dean plugged in the coordinates into the laptop and Klaus scooted closer to find out where they led. So did Ben.

“Well, where do the coordinates go?” Sam asked, sounding impatient. Klaus wasn’t sure where his hostility was coming from, but the man was near fuming.

“That’s the interesting part,” said Dean. “Rockford, Illinois.”

That threw them for a loop. “Okay . . . interesting how?”

“Look at the paper,” Dean pointed. Klaus grabbed it and scanned over the articles.

“Walter Kelly,” Klaus read. “Local cop. Shot his wife, then shot himself.” He raised a brow. “Earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum.”

“And?” Sam prompted.

Klaus shrugged. “That’s all.”

“What’s that got to do with us?”

Dean grabbed John’s journal and flipped through the pages. “Dad earmarked the asylum in the journal. Let’s see . . .” he stopped on one of the pages. “Here. ‘Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths’--until last week, at least. I think this is where he wants us to go.”

Sam stood from his chair and ran a hand through his brown, shaggy hair in frustration. “This is a  _ job _ . Dad wants us to work a job.”

“I mean, maybe we’ll meet up with him. Maybe he’s there.”

Sam shook his head. “Maybe he’s not. He could be sending us there by ourselves to hunt this thing.”

“Who cares?” Dean closed the laptop. “If he wants us there, good enough for me.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. And he thought Dean was making progress on the hero worship.

“This doesn’t seem weird? The texting? The coordinates?”

“I agree with Sam,” Ben said, and Klaus translated.

Dean’s jaw tightened. “Dad’s telling us to go somewhere. To  _ help _ someone. We’re going.”

Sam let out a sigh, and looked to Klaus. “Klaus?”

Dean had a good point, though. If it was to help someone, they should go. Right? That was what they were looking for, anyway. A job. And one landed right in front of them, even if it was sent from their dad. “I agree with Dean.”

Ben looked betrayed, and Sam shook his head. Klaus shrunk down in his seat.

“We’re  _ going _ ,” Dean shoved his jacket in his duffle.

“Fine,” Sam said. “But I’m still going to be suspicious.”

“So will I,” Ben glowered at Klaus, and Klaus bit his lip.

“Whatever gets you through the night,” Dean grunted as he hefted the duffle over his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Yes, I know I'm not the first to name the Horror Jamin, but I loved it so much that I wanted to use it too. Credit to the person who first named the Horror)  
> Thanks for reading! We're getting into some good stuff soon. Can't wait!


	43. Fear Can Drive Stick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They check out the asylum. What's up with Klaus?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . Hi everyone. I'm not dead but BOY has my month been insane.   
> It started with dog sitting (which seemed like forever ago, yeesh), and then there was a death in the family. It didn't effect me much, but my sister had a really hard time. Same sister then decided to come across the country to visit for vacation for a week. Which then turned into three weeks. Whenever she comes out, she drags everyone else along for the fun, so it was like a family reunion with lots of outdoor activity. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, but my energy levels are so low I want to cry.
> 
> Warnings for: Unethical medical treatment, ghosts, blood mention, ASYLUM, being held against your will, and crazy people (actual crazy people, not mentally ill patients). Gonna use this warning a lot for the next couple of chapters.
> 
> (Unedited because it's been A Day)

Klaus watched from his position at the bar counter as Dean sat next to the cop partner of the guy who killed his wife and himself. The man seemed uncomfortable with Dean being there and asking questions. Klaus raised his drink to his lips (virgin, of course. The bartender didn’t even look at his fake ID and stated that he couldn’t have anything unless it was juice, water, or lacking in alcohol. Killjoy). 

Ben stood at the other end of the bar, keeping an eye on the situation in case something went wrong. Every time Klaus tried to make eye contact with his brother, the other would glance away. He wasn’t even sure  _ why _ Ben was so mad at him. Or Sam, for that matter. He had stated his opinion and they both looked at him like he had betrayed their trust or something. He didn’t like it.

“Hey buddy,” Sam said, loud enough for the whole bar to hear. Klaus glanced back to the table the cop was at, right as Sam lifted Dean by his lapels and out of his chair. “How about you leave the poor guy alone, huh?”

Dean was thrown to the side, right into a pool table. Not hard enough to damage anything, but enough to shake him. The bar’s occupants quieted and Dean fixed his rumpled jacket roughly, glaring at Sam.

“The man’s an officer!” Sam went on. “Why don’t you show a little respect.”

The cop nodded along when Dean looked to him. Dean scoffed and left in a huff. Sam then sat down with a grumble to the man and the two struck up a conversation.

All according to plan.

Although, Sam seemed a little rougher than necessary. Maybe some of the resentment from before was affecting the act. 

Klaus waited a good ten minutes until he stood up from the bar, passing Sam as he went. He heard the cop say, “. . . it was just a stupid thing kids do, going in there . . .” as he walked out, trusting that Ben would interfere if necessary.

Besides, Ben seemed to prefer Sam lately anyway . . .

No, he wasn’t jealous. He was just . . . concerned, is all. Ben couldn’t be seen without Klaus’s help, so he  _ needed _ Klaus. Not Sam. Sure, Sam was psychic and had some freaky mind powers, but he wasn’t  _ Klaus _ . Ben couldn’t just choose someone else over him. 

Ben and Klaus, Klaus and Ben. They were an inseparable team. Had been before death and long after. Everyone knew it. So what was Ben doing, separating himself like this?

Klaus took a deep breath as he stopped next to the Impala, Dean already resting against the hood. The older brother raised a brow at him, and he gave a shaky smile.

“Everything alright?”

“It was too noisy in there,” Klaus offered as explanation. Dean nodded slowly, like he didn’t fully believe what he said.

“You okay?” Klaus asked. “Sam pushed you a little too hard in there.”

Dean shrugged. “Not the rowdiest we’ve been. Still, the manhandling and the shove was a bit too real for a gig.”

Klaus nodded. “You guys get physical when you get in disagreements?”

“. . . Sometimes.” The pause wasn’t very reassuring, but Klaus had been raised with Luther and Diego, where fights  _ always _ got physical.

They sat in silence until Sam returned, Ben trailing at his heels. Ben wouldn’t look at him. Klaus tried not to feel upset by that.

“So, basically, our guy was  _ squeaky clean _ ,” Sam finished, leaning his forearms against the roof of Baby. “No reason for him to kill his wife and himself.”

“What about the Asylum?” Dean asked, and Sam grinned like he had been waiting for that question.

“Now  _ that _ is where things get interesting.”

Sometimes, Klaus thought that Sam was more dramatic than  _ he _ was. Which was a feat in and of itself, but an offense towards Klaus’s nature. He’d have to step up his game.

Sam described to the group, as they loaded into the car and drove towards the Roosevelt Asylum, that the building in question had a lot of rumors surrounding it. Mainly, that the abandoned asylum was filled with crazy ghosts that would make anyone insane if they stayed the night. Which was why the local teens kept tempting fate and spending their nights at the five-star haunted mental institution. Because who  _ wouldn’t _ want to be turned insane by a bunch of crazy ghosts?

Boy howdy, sign Klaus up.

“Why are people so stupid?” Klaus asked.

Dean snorted. “Says the one who shot at a metal sign.”

“In my defense, I thought it would work fine as a target.”

“Haven’t you seen  _ A Christmas Story _ ?”

“What now?”

“‘You’ll shoot your eye out, kid’?”

“Not ringing a bell, but that sounds horrifying. Pretty sure I’ve seen people with their eyes shot out, and it’s  _ nasty _ .”

Dean let out a startled laugh. “Geez, kiddo. Gruesome much?”

“Such is the way of my life,” Klaus sighed.

As soon as they pulled up beside the asylum, a feeling of dread washed over Klaus intensely. He held back a full body shudder, but only just, and settled on a grimace. The place was dreary and grimy, old, and falling apart. Decay didn’t extend just to the caving walls. 

There were hundreds of ghosts here. One, especially, made Klaus’s skin crawl in a way he refused to acknowledge. 

Insanity. That was the only thing he could sense from the place. Absolute, mind scrambling insanity.

“That’s where we’re going?” Ben asked, becoming real for the two in the front. “It’s kind of . . . creepy.”

“That’s an understatement,” Klaus grunted. “Place is swarming with ghosts. And it’s not a happy gathering.”

Dean cursed and flipped around to look at Klaus at the same time Sam’s lips turned down in a frown. “How many?”

Klaus laughed incredulously. “Hell if I know. Too many? Too much for me, and  _ definitely too much _ for you. It’s in the hundreds at least.”

That was a lie. He knew exactly how many there were. He swallowed back the bile that threatened to slide up his throat and shivered as a cold sweat prickled along his back. Dean huffed at the dig, but Klaus was serious. If all those ghosts turned on them at once . . .

Well, he didn’t want to think about it.

“We’re going to scope it out,” Sam said, already stepping out of the car. Klaus made a noise of protest.

“I’m not going in there!” He shook his head firmly. That was like asking him to relive his childhood trauma. No thanks.

“Come on, Klaus,” Ben folded his arms over his chest. “You’ve been working hard on your powers lately. You even banished all those ghosts in the woods back with Matt!”

And, okay, while that was true, low blow. Klaus was finally moving on from his first crush, but it was still hard. And that incident in the woods was instinctual! He was terrified that he was going to be ripped to shreds! What if he was  _ actually  _ ripped to shreds while inside the asylum? Not only that, but . . . the stone walls, the chill of decay and death, the mad ghosts . . .

No. Not a chance was he going in there.

He told Ben as such, and his brother frowned deeply, disappointed. The look wasn’t new, but it stung. Klaus was finally becoming useful to his family, and he was getting looks of  _ pride _ and  _ wonder _ . He was no longer that addicted screw up.

But here he was, screwing up.

He wanted to cry.

“Stop being so dramatic, Klaus,” Ben hissed. “It’s not that bad. You have me  _ and _ Sam and Dean.”

_ It’s not that bad, Klaus. We all have personal training. It sucks, but at least you get Dad’s attention. _

He shivered.

“I’m not going,” he sat back in his seat and curled into a ball, hiding his face in his knees. Whispers creeped along his spine, and the remembered feeling of cold, dead fingers grasping at him, begging and pleading for  _ help, Klaus, help us! Please, Klaus. You can help! _

_ Help us, Klaus! _

_ Klaus. _

_ Klaus. _

_ Klaus! _

He bit down, hard, on his bottom lip until he tasted copper, and hugged himself for a semblance of warmth.

He didn’t notice when Sam and Dean left the car, Ben following behind invisibly.

He didn’t hear them say that they’d be back soon, it was just a scope out. They were just planning to get information.

He didn’t process anything for a good, long while, the ghosts of his past digging into his brain and tearing at his sanity.

Dean gave Klaus one last look before he turned towards the asylum, worry hopefully not present on his face, but it was anyone’s guess. Klaus wasn’t acting normal. It was similar to how he reacted to being around a graveyard, and he hadn’t even noticed them leaving him behind.

He just sat there, curled up in the back seat and shivering. Dean wanted to make this as quick as possible.

The inside of the asylum was not too much better than the outside. The chain-link fence surrounding the building was already open, so it was simple to get inside. The doors squeaked on rusted hinges, one barely hanging on by a nail. A chill swept through them as they walked inside, and Dean held his EMF ready in case any ghosts decided to sneak up on them.

The walls were decorated with spray painted gang symbols and vulgar words. There were a few Satanist symbols in the mix, too, and Dean rolled his eyes. Whoever had done them was an idiot.

The floor was littered with trash, and weeds grew up from the cracked cement. Where there were once arrows pointing where to go on the floor, now resided smudges of (hopefully) dirt, and Dean scuffed his foot along one especially dirty spot to see an old, filthy magazine cover. He scrunched his nose at it.

“So, apparently, the cops chased the kids here . . .” Sam said, also looking uncomfortable with how decrepit the place had become. “Into the south wing.” He gestured to the door to their right, a chain hanging from one handle. The door was old and grungy, but the chain looked new. Dean couldn’t see beyond the cross-work iron in the window, a black void looming behind the closed door.

“South Wing, huh?” Dean read the wooden plate over the door. He was surprised the paint had held up for so long. 

A vague memory tingled at the back of his mind. “Wait a second.” He pulled out Dad’s journal, tucking the EMF under his arm as he flipped through the pages. “South wing, south wing . . .” He landed on the article that he had shown his brothers earlier, and he quickly scanned it, reading aloud when he found what he was looking for.

“‘1972--Three kids had broken into the south wing. Only one survived.’” He pursed his lips. “The way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place.”

“So, whatever’s going on, the south wing sounds like it’s at the heart of it,” Sam nodded to the closed door.

“Yeah, but if kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren’t there a ton more deaths?”

Sam pointed to the chain wrapped around the one handle, and Dean finally saw the harsh cut through one of the links. “Seems like it’s usually locked up.”

They shared a grim look, then moved for the door. Sam picked up the chain and unwrapped it from around the handle, tossing it aside. Hopefully Sam’s new cop buddy would get a new one installed. Or, better yet, they take care of the ghost problem (because, according to Klaus, it was  _ definitely _ a ghost problem) and no one has to worry about this creepy place again.

Sam opened the door with a creak and Dean hurried to put away the journal, holding his EMF aloft like before. It was already pinging something, but before he could mention something about it, Ben appeared at his side.

“I’m coming with you,” he said, jaw clenched. “I can warn you of ghosts, so you don’t need the EMF. I just . . .” he sighed, frustrated. “I’m so upset with Klaus right now. I want to help you guys, since you’re walking right into danger and all.” He finished by stuffing his hands in his hoodie pockets and looked away with a blush.

Sam huffed and clapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Thanks. It’ll be good to have you.”

Ben nodded, once, more sure of himself. They entered the south wing.

As they walked along, dodging strew hospital tables and gurneys, Dean wanted to hum a tune. He didn’t, merely because it would annoy Sam, and at the moment his little brother was angry at him. Instead, he opened his mouth to tease.

“Let me know if you spot any ghosts, Haley Joel,” he snickered.

“Okay, enough,” Sam grumbled, while Ben looked confused.

“I’m serious, though, be careful,” Dean went on, teasing tone still present. “Ghosts are attracted to that ESP you’ve got going on.”

Since their time in Kansas, Sam had been a lot more open about his freaky dreams. Apparently, his brother could see the future. Klaus had been helpful in pointing out that there may be more to it, asking questions that Dean hadn’t even thought of.

(Do they happen frequently? Does it have to do with you specifically, or can you sometimes dream of things that don’t involve you? Has it always come true, no matter what you do? Do they happen during the day? Are you able to see other things beyond the future? What about--)

Ben had a theory that maybe Sam had an inkling towards “seeing past barriers”. He thought maybe, if Sam worked on it, he could do some of the same things Missouri could. Maybe one day he’d be able to read minds.

The thought was terrifying, to say the least. Better to joke about it than think too hard.

Sam groaned. “I told you, it’s not ESP. I just have strange vibes sometimes, weird dreams.”

And man were they weird. Sam came up to him one day and said not to look at a woman at the store when he went out or something bad would happen. Apparently, she would have castrated him (literally) and had her boyfriend or whatever come in and string him up by his thumbs. The thought was ridiculous, but . . . Sam hadn’t been wrong yet, and the idea of losing his manhood made him extremely cautious that day.

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean chuckled. “Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

“Anybody around?” Sam asked Ben, changing the subject. Internally, Dean grinned. Finally got his brother out of that brooding mood he’d been in all day.

Ben shook his head, glancing around warily. “I don’t see anybody . . . it’s weird. Klaus said there were a lot of ghosts . . . and he looked sincere about it.” He frowned, eyes glaring at the floor. “Of course, he’s used excuses in the past to get out of something he didn’t want to do. He could have lied.”

“Seemed pretty legit to me,” Dean shrugged. “Maybe they’re taking a siesta, waiting for nightfall before they get to spooking.”

“Maybe,” Ben said. “I’m not as reliable as Klaus when it comes to this stuff.” He sighed. “I wish he came with us.”

Time to change the subject again before things got heated. “Hey Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic--Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?”

Sam smacked his shoulder, making him laugh loudly.

They came across a therapy room, a few rooms with beds, and a room filled with books resembling an office. What made them stop was a room that had promising knick knacks. 

And by knick knacks, he meant jars of pickled body parts, operation tables flecked with blood, a metal contraption meant to strap someone down standing in the middle of chaos, mannequin torsos flung around with stuffing coming out, and auspicious books lying on clean tables opened to things that Dean could read from where he stood.

He whistled. “Nothing in here?” he asked Ben.

“No one,” he winced. “But it’s really, really creepy.”

“Can’t agree more kiddo.”

Sam broke away from them and further into the room, while Dean moved towards the metal contraption. He grimaced when he realized what it was for. “Man. Electroshock, lobotomies. They did some twisted stuff to these people, kind of like my man Jack in ‘Cuckoo’s Nest’.”

Sam didn’t even grace the joke with a look his way, and Dean’s smile faltered. Alright, fine. If he was being too uptight for jokes, so be it.

Ben still looked completely lost on the jokes. Poor kid needed to get some cultural awareness.

“So, what do you think?” Dean asked, getting down to business. “Ghosts possessing people?”

Sam hummed. “Maybe. Maybe it’s more like Amityville or the Smurl haunting.”

“Ah, spirits driving them insane,” he grinned. “Kind of like my man Jack in ‘The Shining’.” 

Sam rolled his eyes.

They were silent for a moment while Dean walked towards one of the opened books. Sam sighed his Serious Sigh and Dean tensed.

“Dean, when are we gonna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“About the fact that Dad’s not here.”

“Uh, oh, how about never.” He turned away from his brother and resolutely ignored the stab of hurt in his chest. It wasn’t like Dad abandoned them or anything. He was busy. And he needed their help with a few jobs was all.

“I’m being serious, man,” Sam sighed.

“So am I, Sam,” Dean flipped around and came closer to his brother, hoping the other would understand. “Listen. He sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We’ll just have to pick up the search later.”

“It doesn’t matter what he wants,” Sam argued.

“See, that attitude, right there? That’s why I always got the extra cookie,” he grinned.

“Dad could be in trouble. We should be looking for  _ him _ ,” Sam ignored Dean’s attempt at humor, much to his annoyance. “We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we’re talking about.”

“I understand that, Sam, but he’s given us an order,” Dean said, and immediately clenched his teeth together as a shiver ran through him.

Dad gave them an order. Order, not ‘asked for a favor’. Why did it make him compare Dad to Klaus’s asshole of a father? They were  _ nothing _ alike.

“So what?” Sam asked, voice lowering with a huff. “We’ve got to always follow Dad’s orders?”

_ No _ , a voice, suspiciously sounding like Klaus, rang through his mind.  _ No, of course not. You’re adults now. _

Dad knew everything, though. Dad knew he needed to pick up Sam from college. He knew that Dean needed to be someplace at some time because of some reason, because Dad had a plan. Dad knew what he was doing, and he always came out on top. And they needed to listen to him if they wanted to come out on top, too.

So, with a voice that didn’t entirely sound like his own, he said, “Of course we do.”

The look in Sam’s eyes was one of resigned acceptance, like he knew Dean would say that. Because Dean  _ always _ said that. They needed to listen to Dad.

Dean wasn’t sure why that made him so upset.

“Hey, guys, look at this,” Ben said, drawing them away from their intense staring contest. Dean looked back towards the book that he had found earlier, and Ben held up a metal sign for them to see.

“Sanford Ellicott,” Dean read. At the top, etched into the metal, were the words  _ Chief of Staff _ . If they were gonna get anything, it would be from digging into this guy.

They needed to find out what happened in the south wing.

A few minutes later Sam, Dean, and Ben made it back to the car, putting the asylum and it’s creepy . . . everything, behind them. Dean let out a long sigh, wanting to crawl into a cheap motel bed and sleep the exhaustion in his bones away.

A gasp had him blinking at Ben, who was staring shocked in the back seat.

“Klaus is gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry again that this was so late. I hope I can get back into regular updates (classes start on the 14th, so I might get swept up in homework). I also hope this same thing doesn't happen again. It was rough lol


	44. A Beautiful Letdown is What I'll Forever Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for Klaus is on. Ben gets in an argument and regrets his heated words. Sam investigates Ellicott.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Short chapter today, but I have a reason. I'M MOVING!! Cheers all around  
> So excited omg. Been a rough few months, but I'm back on track!  
> Uhhh, don't think there's any triggers this time. Go me lol

“He can’t have gone too far,” Ben said as his eyes roved over the area and his hands clutched to Klaus’s jacket tightly (why didn’t he bring his jacket, it’s  _ freezing _ \--). “I’m still able to manifest. He’s gotta be within a five mile radius.”

They had built up that ability as soon as they could, once Ben discovered it. When he was too far away from Klaus, he couldn’t draw upon his power. It was frustrating, but with time they had developed it to at least five miles. It was freeing.

Now, it was terrifying.

Klaus could be anywhere, but he was far enough away that Ben couldn’t draw on their tether to pinpoint an exact location. He just felt a vague pull.

“He’s nowhere inside?” Sam asked, stepping into the car and whipping out his phone to call the burner that Klaus owned. It started ringing in the backseat, leaving all of them to curse.

“No,” Ben shook his head, gnawing on his bottom lip. “He wouldn’t go inside there willingly.”

“Maybe unwillingly?” Dean asked, the undercurrent of worry clear.

Ben shook his head again. “No, I don’t think he’s in there. Call it a gut instinct. If he was taken or ran off, it’s away from here. Far away.”

They nodded and Dean didn’t hesitate to pull away from the asylum and start searching the streets with the car going no higher than twenty miles and hour. Ben kept his eyes peeled for a pink crop top and a mess of curls. He had a sinking feeling the longer they searched.

(No one mentioned it, but when Dean drove by an alleyway he would slow the car and they would all press their faces to the glass to try and spot a specific manic energy.)

Time was too slow and not slow enough. It slipped through Ben’s fingers like sand, like it usually did whenever Klaus was asleep or Klaus was in the bathtub or something equally private that Ben couldn’t participate in. Before they knew it, the sun was starting to settle across the horizon and Klaus had not been found.

“Dean, we should stop at the motel--”

“And give up the search?” Dean demanded, and Ben winced. “Not gonna happen Sam.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Sam growled back. “We’re no good to him dead on our feet. I know you didn’t sleep last night. I can take Ben out and  _ we _ can look for him while you rest.”

The two of them had been at each other's throats for a while now. Not like Ben and Klaus, who were having a bit of a disagreement . . . but actually looking about ready to throw punches. It was like watching Diego and Luther get riled up at each other. It wasn’t a pleasant comparison.

“No way am I sitting out while you look for him,” Dean said. “We find him together, we kill him together, and then we lock him up in the motel until he’s twenty-five.”

While Ben felt the same, he knew that Klaus would never go for it. He was a stubborn asshole like that. But his stubborn asshole.

His stubborn asshole that was  _ walking right there Dean stop _ \--

“Dean!” Ben yelled, then phased through the car door and lept for his brother. Klaus startled at the sudden contact, stumbling back with an armful of ghost brother.

“Who . . . Ben?” Klaus’s voice was soft and paper thin, and once he realized who he was holding, his grip tightened significantly. “Oh Ben . . .”

“Klaus!” Ben clutched at his brother, fearful that he would disappear if he didn’t hold on. “Where were you? Where did you go? We were so worried . . .”

“Didn’t seem like it . . .” Klaus mumbled, but Ben heard it and pulled back enough to glare at him. Klaus wouldn’t look at him, so he smacked his brother’s arm and Klaus winced and rubbed the area. “Ow, what was that for?”

“That’s for scaring me to death,” Ben said. He drew Klaus in for another hug.

“You’re already dead, crybaby,” Klaus grumbled, but reciprocated the hug.

“Shut up.”

They were joined by Sam and Dean, who were both on edge. “Klaus?” Sam asked hesitantly. “You okay?”

“Oh yeah, just peachy,” Klaus smiled with false cheer. Ben finally realized that the street they were on was . . . not ideal. A woman stumbled past them with half her jacket falling off and showing track marks to the world. Ben took a step back towards the car, dragging Klaus with him.

“Where did you go?”

“Away.”

That wasn’t an answer, and Ben’s concern skyrocketed. He leaned in close to Klaus’s face and searched his eyes. Klaus turned his head away sharply, but Ben already saw the dilated pupils.

Klaus was high.

The concern flipped to anger so quickly Ben actually had to take a moment to breathe a breath he didn’t need. Anger bubbled up and boiled over until Ben was shaking with it. So, what, he leaves Klaus’s side for an hour and his brother goes out and shoots up? Takes a few pills to numb himself? And for what? Because he’s scared of a few ghosts? Ben could strangle him right now. He just might.

“How many more do you have on you?” Ben asked with a growl. The Horror--Jamin--peeked out from under his shirt and wrapped a tentacle around Klaus’s wrist.

“You’re not my mom,” Klaus whined, trying to tug away from Jamin, to no avail.

“How long before it affects your powers?” Ben could already feel himself slipping, just the teeniest bit. 

Klaus giggled. 

He sighed, long and slow, and disappointment coated his tone when he said, “You should have stayed in the car.”

“I  _ couldn’t _ ,” Klaus snapped, surprising Ben. This time, when he ripped his hand away, he succeeded in slipping out of Jamin’s hold (but only because Ben was flickering out of view). Klaus backed away from Ben, glare firmly in place. “You don’t know  _ anything _ .”

“I know that you ran away because you’re a  _ coward _ ,” Ben hissed, Jamin joining in. “You were doing so well! And what, a couple of ghosts freak you out and you decide to call it quits?”

“That’s not what happened at all!”

“Guys--” Dean tried to step in, but Ben wasn’t having it. This was between him and Klaus.

“Shut up, Dean,” he growled, voice layered. He didn’t wait to see Dean’s startled response, instead flipping back around at Klaus. “I told you--I _told_ you--that we would keep you safe. I _told_ _you_ that everything would be fine!”

“And where were you when I needed you, huh?” Klaus asked with a venomous grin. “While you were off exploring a creepy, abandoned asylum, what did you think happened to me, alone in a car as a beacon to the dead?”

Ben scoffed, shaking his head. “Stop using the same excuse over and over. You know how to get rid of them. You didn’t have to do this and you know it. You’re just a  _ disappointment _ .”

Silence. Ben immediately knew he went too far. The walls he had taken forever to plow through were built up once more, Klaus shutting himself away from his brother. Klaus drew himself up to his full height, towering over Ben with a look so cold that Ben actually shivered.

“You’re right,” Klaus said, voice surprisingly strong, but devoid of anything but false levity. “And that’s all I’ll ever be. Guess now you know, huh?”

Klaus about faced and headed for the car, the others frozen in place. “Klaus--” Ben tried.

Klaus held up a hand and didn’t acknowledge him beyond a wave.

The ride back to the motel was tense and too quiet, like any sound would break the fragile truce they had going on. Sam was on the edge of his seat the whole time, ready to bolt as soon as he could. It didn’t help that Dean had confiscated the remaining drugs on Klaus and the teen was sulking in the back, refusing to talk to anyone. Ben was nowhere in (his) sight.

“How did you even get drugs?” Dean grumbled. Sam winced. Being a college student, he could think of lots of ways. Hopefully Klaus did none of the ways he immediately thought of.

“The money you gave me,” Klaus said, and Sam let out a relieved sigh. He didn’t ever want to think of Klaus being in any of those situations. Ever. Even if the kid was buying drugs, at least it was with money rather than favors.

Or worse, being in debt that’ll catch up to him later in a nasty way.

Dean’s fingers tightened around the wheel, and he tensed. Klaus noticed and snorted.

“That’s why I told you not to give me money,” Klaus said breezily. “I only end up wasting it on less favorable activities.”

“I gave you money because I trusted you,” Dean replied.

“So, what, you gonna take it away now that you don’t?” Klaus huffed. “Figures. Well, sucks for you. I spent it all.”

“I didn’t say that,” Dean argued. He took a breath to calm himself. Sam was kind of impressed he hadn’t flipped out yet. “I gave you that money because I trusted you.  _ I still trust you _ . There’s gonna be bad days, I already knew that. Doesn’t mean that I don’t trust you anymore. It would take a  _ lot _ to get me to not trust you, kiddo.”

Klaus stared at Dean like he had told him that the sky was actually orange. “But I broke your trust. I spent the money on  _ drugs _ .” He emphasized the word as though Dean had forgotten somehow.

“And that’s on me,” Dean admitted, which threw Sam for a loop. Dean glared at Sam, daring him to say something. Sam didn’t even know where to  _ start _ , so he stayed silent. “I noticed that you weren’t handling being at the asylum well, and left you behind regardless. Even if it was just for a little while, I still left you alone to handle something that scared you.”

“Scared?” Klaus huffed and uncomfortably shifted in his seat. “Who, me? Never heard of her.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Well,  _ whatever  _ it was, I left you behind while you were struggling, and basically allowed for you to go out and get high. That’s on me.”

“I can make my own decisions, Dean,” Klaus said, his curls falling into his eyes. He needed another hair cut soon.

“‘Course you can. Still my responsibility until you’re eighteen.”

Klaus huffed again and focused his eyes back out the window. Sam was getting a headache.

“Drop me off at the library,” Sam said. “I’ll do research into our guy. You get dinner at that place you were eyeing earlier.”

“You sure?” Dean asked, but he already turned off the main road and was headed for the library.

“Yeah. Get me a salad and smoothie?”

“Sure.”

The rest of the car ride was silent. Less tense, by far, but no means the same jovial atmosphere they had before.

“Call me if you need something,” Dean said in way of farewell. Sam nodded and stepped back from the car as Baby pulled away from the curb. He waved before heading inside.

Time to find information about their guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope to see you next time <3


	45. What the Hell's Going On, Can Someone Tell Me Please?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean offers distractions for Klaus. Ben gets angry. Sam finds good information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am moved, things are going AMAZING!! Classes have started and I am Stressed lol. Still writing, though! (Gotta put that stress to use elsewhere ya know . . .)
> 
> TW: . . . Ben wishes some Bad Things on Klaus, but he immediately realizes what he's thought and is freaked out by it.

Klaus was pleasantly surprised that Dean kept to his word and didn’t immediately lock Klaus away somewhere to ride out the high and inevitable crash. Ben sulked on the bed and wouldn’t look at him (Good riddance, his mind said, but his heart ached for some reason). Meanwhile, Dean kept an eye on Klaus while he flushed the pills Klaus had obtained (a good $150 down the drain . . .) and Klaus tried his best not to wince as they disappeared.

He was already shaking, cloud nine vanishing under his feet bit by bit until he was left to the freefall. He was dreading it.

“How ya doin’?” Dean asked as he came back. Ben remained silent.

“Oh, great,” Klaus said as shivers wracked his frame. “Ready for round two.”

Dean snorted at the joke, and Klaus smiled slightly. At least someone liked his morbid and self-deprecating humor.

“How about I turn on some porn for you to watch instead?”

Klaus blinked at him. Did . . . did he hear that right? “Exsqueeze me? Say that again?”

Dean shrugged, looking unrepentant and Klaus’s jaw dropped. “Yeah. Why not? You’re sixteen; at that age that boys like you get horny all the time. I won’t be in the room. I need to work on Baby, figure out what that sound was in the engine.”

“You’re gonna leave me here alone? After what I just pulled? Didn’t Sam ask you to keep an eye on me?”

Dean laughed. “Trust me, kiddo. I know all the escape routes. You’d have to go through me first if you were planning on running out to get high. I’d like to think that you won’t, but if you do, I’ll be here to catch you and bring you back.”

Klaus deflated. “Ah, so you’re my prison guard.”

“I’d like to think of myself as a good older brother who doesn’t want his younger brother to turn to vices when he’s stressed or scared,” Dean said, and the serious tone he used gave Klaus goosebumps. He still blamed himself for Klaus going out and getting high.

Well, that just won’t do.

“How about instead of keeping me prisoner where you can’t see me, I help you on the car?” Klaus licked his lips. He had never worked on a car before. Hell, he had never done  _ anything _ with a car except sit in it and go places.

Dean raised a brow at him, and he tried his best to look confident and not shrivel up on the spot.

“You gotta understand . . .” Dean began in that tone that Klaus knew he was going to be let down. Dean held up his hands. “I don’t let anyone touch Baby. Not even Sam, and it’s  _ Sam _ .”

“No, no, I know,” Klaus was quick to say. “I don’t have to even touch the car. I can just stand next to you and hand you tools and stuff.”

The brow went higher. Klaus stood his ground.

“Alright, fine,” Dean chuckled. “But no touching Baby while I’ve got her hood up. She’s sensitive.”

Klaus wasn’t sure why Dean treated his car as though it was alive. It was . . . weird. And he’s seen some weird stuff.

As long as he didn’t try to bang the car . . .

Klaus threw  _ that  _ thought far into the abyss called  _ never again _ and shuddered.

“Aye-aye captain!” he saluted.

Dean waved for him to follow. Klaus was at his heels, ignoring the sad looks Ben threw his way as he passed.

Sam returned to Klaus and Dean working together on the Impala, Klaus sat on the curb with a box of tools and Dean elbow deep in Baby’s engine. Ben was nowhere to be seen, and Sam worried that the younger brothers hadn’t yet been able to make up.

“Whatcha guys up to?” Sam asked, amused when Dean called for a tool and Klaus was quick to hand it over.

“Baby needed fixing. Klaus offered to help.” Dean grunted, and something clicked inside. He swore and Sam raised a brow.

“And you let him?” Dean didn’t let people just  _ help _ with Baby. Baby was  _ Dean’s _ car, ever since Dad bought that new truck. Baby was Dean’s everything. Even  _ Sam _ wasn’t allowed to help much other than with tools, much like what Klaus was doing now.

“‘Course,” Dean huffed. “Long as he doesn’t touch her and only takes  _ one _ beer--” the glare sent the teen’s way had Klaus rolling his eyes.

“It was only one, I swear!”

“Uh huh,” Dean turned back to Sam. “Then it’s fine. What did you find?”

Sam held up a folder compiling the stuff he had found (removing the slip of paper from the therapist he had interviewed) and holding it out for Dean to read. “Where’s Ben?” he asked Klaus.

The teen immediately looked less interested in the conversation, looking down at the ground and biting his lip. “Oh, you know . . . around.”

“I’m here,” Ben said softly to Sam’s left. He glanced to the ghost, frowning at the despondent way he held himself. Had they still not made up in the time that Sam was away?

“Okay,” Dean came forward and pointed between the two teenagers. “This? I don’t like this.”

Klaus folded his arms. “As though your opinion matters.”

Dean took a moment to breathe, teeth gritted. “While I’m not part of your spat, it would be great if you two could figure this out before we hurl ourselves into danger.”

Sam frowned at that. “Hey, butt out. Klaus isn’t even going.”

Both Klaus and Dean looked up sharply at that. “What? I’m not?”

“Of course he’s coming along!” Dean pointed to the folder, where it was open on the page about the riot. “It says right here that there were bodies that were never found! We need his help finding them all.”

“Whoa, wait--”

“No, he’s staying behind,” Sam said firmly. “We can do the job on our own. We don’t want another incident like before.”

Dean clenched a fist and looked away. Klaus raised his hand.

“Hey, does the subject have a say in the matter?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, that’s not confusing at all. Can someone at least explain what’s going on?”

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. So. There was a riot in the south wing of the asylum. The patients went crazy and attacked staff members. Several people died, including our guy Ellicott. Bodies were never found of those that died. It’s theorized that the patients, uh . . .  _ stuffed _ the bodies in places that no one could find.”

“What’s so great about Ellicott again?”

“He was the chief of staff,” Sam said. “He did most of the work in the south wing, theorizing that lobotomy and electro therapy would help those with mental disabilities.”

“Ah, so the one behind all the crazies. Gotcha”

“Apparently, his grandson thinks he did a lot of good work in the field of medicine.”

Klaus flapped a hand. “They all think that. Then it turns out that it was them all along!” He sighed. “Well, I’m electing to ignore you both. Klaus says that he’s not going inside the murder asylum, thanks.” He grinned wide, but there was no humor in his hard eyes.

Sam gave a victorious grin to Dean.

“But I’m not staying here, either.”

That threw Sam for a loop.

“You’re not going out to get high!” Ben growled, the first time he looked anything other than depressed.

“I never said that!” Klaus growled right back, eyes flashing with annoyance. “I’m going to stay in the comfort of the car rather than alone inside this motel. There’s at least three ghosts that I can see, more that I can hear, and I’d rather wait somewhere where there’s guns and salt.”

Ben shrunk back in on himself and flickered out of view. Klaus turned up his nose and fiddled with his jacket sleeves.

“Well, that’s fine,” Sam shrugged. “But, uh, you’ll  _ stay _ there, right?”

“Yeah yeah,” Klaus waved a hand around for flippancy. “I have Ben here to literally keep me in the car.” He grit his teeth and glared at air for the last part.

“Right . . .” Dean sighed, long and deep, like he did back when Sam was a teenager. The comparison almost made Sam chuckle. “I guess we’re looking for bodies, then. Without Klaus’s help.”

Dean gave one last look Klaus’s way, but Klaus didn’t budge, so he let it go. Sam hated the tension.

The next morning was better than the night before. Klaus actually looked well rested and slept well through the night. Ben was worried that his brother might have nightmares, but he never did.

It only made his suspicions against Klaus higher.

He didn’t want to, but ever since he said those damning words, he couldn’t get why they affected Klaus so badly. Sure, Dad said it all the time to him, and the others liked to say it behind his back. Ben had never said it, though, not until that argument.

But now, he wondered why Dad called Klaus that to begin with. Because, for all intents and purposes, Klaus wasn’t what Dad wanted in a superhero child, but he wasn’t  _ useless _ . Klaus could gain information that others couldn’t. He had eyes everywhere. He had powers he had never tapped into because of the drugs that made him really powerful over the dead (and boy, if Ben knew that Klaus could possess people before he died, he would have been a lot more terrified of him as a child). 

But then . . . the drugs. They affected Klaus’s powers. Why did he always poison himself like that? Why did he force the ability to permanently banish ghosts away?

Why, why, why?

And then Ben got to thinking. What if . . . What if he was right, and Klaus really was a disappointment? What if Klaus poisoned himself because he was too cowardly to use his powers? What if Klaus put drugs in his system on purpose because he liked the floaty feeling and wanted to waste his life away?

The life that Ben could have had, but never could?

The life that Ben wished he had still, that Klaus was willfully pissing away?

It made Ben angry, and he stewed in silence on the ride to the asylum. Klaus ignored him anyway, so it was fine.

He just . . . he couldn’t understand why Klaus would want to do what he did. He didn’t understand why Klaus would be terrified of the ghosts (while terrifying, true, Klaus could do something about it now), or why his reaction was to go out and hurt himself.

Ben would give anything to trade places with Klaus, since his brother seemed so intent to join the ranks he saw daily.

He caught himself at that thought and shook his head like a dog, drawing Klaus’s attention. That was horrible to think about. Klaus and Ben had always been close (they were forced to have the same room for a long time and they grew to tolerate each other, which then grew to like), and before he had died he could never picture bigger-than-life Klaus dying. Death was scary, even now. All Ben had left was Klaus (and by extension Sam and Dean).

If they traded places, Ben would no longer see Klaus, unlike how Klaus could see and talk to him now. Was life really more important than that?

No, he decided. He loved Klaus too much to lose him like that. It was too terrifying to even picture.

“Ben?” Klaus asked, and Ben’s head whipped to his concerned brother’s face. “You okay? You don’t look so good . . .”

Ben had no idea what he looked like, but emotionally he definitely felt shaken. He locked eyes with his brother, and something must have been there since Klaus’s brows came together and he moved away from the window.

“Ben . . .?”

Ben startled when the car came to a stop.

“Alrighty. Roosevelt Asylum,” Dean turned off the car and stepped out, followed by Sam. He turned back and said to Klaus, “Sit tight. Scream if you need us.”

Klaus snorted and sat back on the bench. “Go have fun you two.”

Dean huffed and closed the door. Ben was left alone with his brother who may or may not have hated him for what he said.

“Klaus, I--”

“You still look kinda weird,” Klaus said, interrupting. “You good?”

“What?” He looked down at himself, but he had no idea what Klaus was talking about. He looked the same, black hoodie and jacket and pants and  _ everything _ black. Still dead. What was weird?

“Yeah, you’re all . . .” Klaus waved a hand at him, but Ben had no idea how to interpret that. He stared at Klaus blankly.

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever. You seem fine enough.” He slumped against the door.

Ben pursed his lips, hands fisting against his knees. “Klaus,” he tried again. “I’m sorry.”

“Ha. Say it like you mean it.”

“I do!” Ben said. A part of him whispered that he didn’t. “I mean, I just can’t understand you.”

Klaus shrugged. “What’s not to understand? I’m a coward, I went out to get high, and you finally figured out that I am, indeed, a disappointment. Mystery solved.”

Ben grit his teeth when he spoke, “You and I both know that’s not what I meant. You ran off to get high, yeah, but  _ why _ ? It can’t  _ just _ be because you were scared. These last few weeks I’ve seen you get scared and banish everything close by, knocking me out for hours. You would have just done that. So  _ why _ , Klaus?”

“Does there  _ have _ to be a reason?” Klaus bit back. “Maybe I just lost control of myself.”

“Bull.”

“What do you want me to say, Ben?” Klaus flipped around to face him, fire in his eyes. “Huh? You want me to tell you my sob story to make you feel better? You want me to tell you all about my issues so you can feel like the good guy, the hero, the  _ savior _ of poor,  _ poor, useless, disappointing Klaus _ ? That what you want?”

Ben felt the stirrings of Jamin beneath his clothes, and he held back a snarl. Barely. “We just want to know why you did it. Why did you go out and harm yourself?”

Klaus huffed and shook his head. “Typical. No, you know what? You don’t get that privilege anymore. Maybe, back before you turned out to be  _ everyone else in my life _ , I would have made the dumb mistake of telling you all about it. Now? Oh no, no sir.”

Ben and Jamin growled, deep and guttural, but Klaus didn’t bat an eye.

“You can’t just force me into submission.  _ I won’t do that anymore _ .” Klaus turned away from Ben.

“We’re sorry for what we said, okay?” Ben said. “We didn’t mean to hurt you. But it’s hard not to take you seriously when you won’t tell us  _ why _ .”

“Well, sorry isn’t going to cut it this time,” Klaus whispered, and it was like a punch in the gut.

Usually, sorry  _ always _ worked with Klaus. Their relationship would bounce right back. Things would be okay. Why didn’t sorry work?

Why was Klaus so damn adamant about this?

Ben folded his arms and glared out the window. Just in time to see the doors to the asylum slam shut and all the windows’ bars come down.

“. . . That can’t be good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> (Unedited because I am Tired)


	46. Pick It All Up and Start Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something bad happens to Sam. Klaus is not having a good day. Dean needs to finish this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello~  
> I have come with a long chapter, because I am late. And also because I have had a ridiculous amount of homework this week ;-;  
> TW: Creepy old man that does bad stuff to patients. Also Klaus is in flashback land y'all.

Sam and Dean had split ways inside the south wing almost as soon as they entered, Dean heading west towards that creepy room they found before and Sam heading east towards the basement. The halls were eerily quiet, save the wailing from the EMF held aloft in his right hand while his left gripped a shotgun. Sam’s nerves were frayed.

It didn’t help that they had been before he entered the decrepit building.

Dean’s last words to him before they split had been, “Be careful. The only thing worse than a pissed off spirit is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer.” They rang in his ears as the EMF sounded through the empty halls.

Trash and glass crunched under his feet as he tread down the stairs and into the basement, keeping his eyes and ears open for anything and everything. He was already having a rough day, and he didn’t need for some ghost to jump him while he’s distracted by conflicting thoughts.

That is, if any ghosts would show up.

It was night, the moon high in the sky. Sam had to use the flashlight at the top of his gun to even see where he was going. As Klaus would call it, it was the time for the ghosties to play. So where the hell were they?

A clatter behind him drew his attention, and he flashed his light over a dirty corner. A rat skittered past with an alarmed squeak, and his muscles relaxed. 

He was not prepared for the shambling woman coming at him when he turned back around.

Her hair was matted and her gait was stilted, but the most obvious affliction was the bloodied, bruised rise that jutted out from where her eye had been, almost as though a piece of metal had been embedded under her skin and left to fester. Startled by her appearance, he ended up dropping his EMF in his haste to grip his gun, sending the poor device clattering across the floor and cracking. He winced.

Good thing Dean never let go of the one he made, otherwise he’d hear an earful.

The woman crept closer, wheezing with each step, and he cocked the gun before taking a shot directly at her head. She didn’t make a sound, but her hands did reach out for him almost as though in longing. She disappeared like a mist.

Sam took a deep breath, shaking out his arms before reaching down for the EMF. Broken. Just his luck.

He glanced back at where the woman had been, brows coming together. That had been . . . weird. She hadn’t attacked, hadn’t even tried. Her mouth had been moving, too, as though she was trying to speak. Maybe . . . she was trying to warn him of something?

That didn’t sit well in his gut at all.

Moving forward, he tried to shake the encounter from his mind, but it was like it took root and refused to leave. It was just  _ so _ similar to him, and he wasn’t sure why that unsettled him so much.

Oh. Ben.

Ben was the only ghost that Sam was on friendly terms with, and Ben never made any threatening advances towards him, just like that woman hadn’t. She wanted to say something. Ben always seemed calm like that, just coming forward to be heard clearer.

Had Sam made a mistake?

He stepped into the boiler room, eyes peeled but thoughts a mess once more. Things weren’t as black and white as Dean and Dad made them out to be, that was for sure, but ghosts had never come across as anything other than rage filled and insane. Not until Klaus and Ben came along. Sam thought that it was because of Klaus’s powers, but what if it wasn’t? What if there were ghosts out there that weren’t as crazy as the ones Sam and Dean had come across, simply because they were healthy in some way?

Or maybe this was a one time thing because these ghosts had been literally insane before they died. Joy.

He came back into focus when his flashlight died.

He swore and lifted his gun, heart thumping against his ribs as his eyes tried to adjust to the dark. To his left, the creaking of door hinges alerted him to another presence, and he whipped around with the gun held high. It was a secret room, the door of which blended in with the wall. Poised over the trigger, he carefully made his way inside, kind of wishing he had back up at the moment.

He probably should have called Dean as soon as that woman had snuck up on him.

The room was filled with gurneys and shelves with pickled objects that he did  _ not  _ want to know the origin of. Tattered curtains hung from rusted metal pipes from the ceiling. A broken clock sat unassuming on a table before him, the hands resting at the nine and six. 9:30. 

Footsteps rang from the other side of the room, and he jerked his gun towards the sound and followed it. His muscles tightened, prepared to spring into action like a panther. His hoodie, previously keeping away the night chill, did nothing to stop the freezing cold that ran up and down his spine as he flung a moth-bitten curtain aside.

Nothing.

His breath ghosted in front of his face.

Slowly, he turned back to face the rest of the room. He came face to face with the mangled face of an old man.

Before he could get his gun up, two hands were wrapped firmly around his head in a vice and white hot pain shot through his skull.

“Don’t be afraid,” he heard somewhere far away. “I’m going to make you all better.”

Klaus stopped before the front doors, Ben worrying at his side. There was clearly a strong force keeping the doors and windows sealed, but Klaus, down from his high and shaking from imaginary fingers on his skin, knew somehow that he was stronger.

“How do we get inside?” Ben asked at his side.

Klaus shrugged, a giddy feeling burning in his chest. “Like this.” And he swung the door wide open.

Ben gaped at him, and Klaus tried his best not to show how immensely pleased he was with the reaction.

_ Disappointment my ass. _

He didn’t allow for the feeling to keep him for long. They needed to find the others, and fast. “Come on.” He waved Ben forward.

As soon as he stepped through the door, a wave of ghosts swarmed him, so much that he lost sight and sound of Ben almost immediately. He fell back against the door, vaguely realizing it had slammed shut behind him, and began to shake uncontrollably.

“Ben?” he whimpered, searching through the mangled faces for his brother’s familiar face. “Ben! Ben, where are you?”

A sobbing cry ripped through his throat when a dead woman grabbed his arm, mouth moving but no sound escaping her bloodied lips. A man in a straight jacket moaned over him, head shaking as though he was a wet dog.

“Ben!”

Ben banged against the doors that locked him out and kept him from his screaming brother. Panic shot through him as he listened to his brother’s cries for his help, and Jamin whined in the back of his mind.

“I know!” Ben shouted in frustration. “I can’t get in!”

“Ben!” Klaus sobbed, and the Horror finally whipped out from the confines of Ben’s stomach to bash at the door.

Apparently, not even Jamin was enough for the force pushing against the door. They pounded, stabbed, anything they could to get to the other side. Nothing.

Klaus’s cries quieted.

“Dammit!” 

Dean raised his brows as he looked through Dr. Ellicott’s “Patients Journal”, letting out a low whistle. “Man, all work and no play makes Ellicott a very dull boy.”

The man wrote about the experiments that he did on his patients, taking them to a secret room in the basement and doing very not good things to them. A lot of the experiments included taking chunks out of patients’ brains, some about sticking metal rods through their eyes and up into their skulls.

His theories were the most interesting bits. Apparently, the man thought that if he channeled the anger that the patients had and let them vent it all out, then they wouldn’t be angry anymore.

Thinking of the riot that ended the doctor’s life, Dean snorted. Lot of good that idea did. He, too, would have been unhappy if he was experimented on.

A door slammed closed in the distance, drawing Dean away from the journal, and he lifted his flashlight to investigate. Warily, he left the room and crept down the hall.

Turning a corner, he came to a sudden stop as he was met with a tall, dark figure. He lifted his gun and flashed his light over the figure, stopping at the last second when he realized who it was.

“Man!” Dean shook out his arms as Sam raised a brow at him. “I could have shot you! Don’t do that.”

Sam didn’t respond, but the brow went up higher.

“You alright?” Dean asked, coming closer to his younger brother. “Where’s your flashlight?”

“Dropped it,” Sam shrugged. “And yeah, totally fine.”

“Dropped it?” Dean rolled his eyes. “Your puberty days of clumsiness coming back to haunt you?”

Sam groaned. “Ha ha.”

“Well, listen,” Dean grew serious, holding up his gun. “I think I know what that lady ghost was trying to tell you. Doctor Ellicott is bad news, and I bet you she was trying to tell you about some of the stuff he got up to.” He gestured towards where Sam had been. “You haven’t seen him, have you?”

“No,” Sam kept steady eye contact, which unnerved Dean a little. “How do you know it was him?”

“Because I found his logbook,” he said. “Apparently, he was experimenting on his patients. Awful stuff. Makes lobotomies look like a couple of aspirin.”

“But it was the patients who rioted,” Sam insisted.

“They were rioting against Doctor Ellicott.” When it looked like Sam still didn’t get it, he went on. “Doctor Feelgood was working on some form of extreme-rage therapy. He thought if he could get his patients to vent their anger, then they’d be cured of it. Instead it only made them worse and worse and angrier and angrier. So I’m thinking, what if his spirit is doing the same thing?”

Sam nodded his head slowly, eyes narrowed as he thought about it.

“To the cop, the kids in the 70’s--making them so angry they become homicidal.”

Sam huffed. Dean moved past his brother and towards the basement stairs.

“Come on,” he said. “We’ve gotta find his bones and torch ‘em.”

“How?” Sam challenged. “The police never found his body.”

“The logbook said he had some hidden procedure room in the boiler room where he’d work on his patients,” Dean took the stairs three at a time, Sam hesitantly following along. “So, if I was a patient, I’d drag his ass down there and do a little work myself.”

“I don’t know, that sounds a little--”

“Crazy? Yeah, exactly.”

It didn’t take long to find the boiler room. The door was open wide, and Dean grinned at his brother as he stepped inside. Sam had a look of annoyance on his face.

“I already looked everywhere down here. There was no hidden room,” Sam bitched. Dean snorted.

“That’s what makes it a  _ hidden room _ , Sammy.” He paused, ears perking at something. “You hear that?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, exasperated. “What?”

Wind. A draft. Dean followed the sound to a patch of light under a wall. No. A  _ door _ .

Smirking, he stood back up and knocked on the disguised door. “Told ya.”

“Dean.”

The serious tone of his brother’s voice had him looking back. He didn’t expect the gun pointed at his chest. Blood dripped from Sam’s nose and down his chin. He wiped it messily with the back of his hand. 

“Step back from the door,” his brother said roughly.

Dread pooled in Dean’s gut as he lifted his hands. “Sam, put the gun down,” he said carefully.

“Is that an order?” Sam asked incredulously. 

“It’s more of a friendly request,” Dean tried to joke.

“‘Cause I’m getting pretty tired of taking your orders,” Sam lifted the gun further so it brushed Dean’s sternum.

“I knew it,” Dean said with a bitter smile. “Ellicott did something to you, didn’t he?”

It made sense. The unnerving way his brother held himself, the challenges, the kind eyes replaced with only a cold indifference.

“For once in your life, shut your mouth.”

“What are you gonna do, Sam?” Dean said, sounding more confident than he felt. “Gun’s filled with rock salt. It’s not gonna kill me.”

He didn’t get the chance to bluff his way out when there was a loud  _ bang! _ from the gun and all the breath left Dean at once. He flew through the air, smashing through the hidden door and crumpling on the floor several feet away from his brother.

“No,” Sam agreed. “But it’ll hurt like hell.”

Inky darkness filled with sobbing, screaming faces. Cold stone walls closing in, in,  _ in--save me-- _ trapping the living with the dead. Or were they all dead? Was he just one of them? Where did he end and they begin?

Their ghostly fingers tugged at him, insistent that he help. How could he help them? He couldn’t even help himself.

He couldn’t remember when he stopped screaming to be heard over them. It was useless.  _ He _ was useless. He couldn’t help them, couldn’t help himself, and no help was coming.

He was left to rot.

_ Klaus . . . _

_ Klaus, Klaus, Klaus. _

_ Klaus! _

_ Klaaaaaauuuuuuus. _

_ Help us Klaus! _

_ Help! _

_ Why won’t you help us Klaus? _

Holding his hands over his ears never did anything, but he did it anyway. It made him feel better, so why not? Maybe if he held on long enough, they’d give up, they’d leave him alone.

They never gave up.

He whimpered and dug at his ears, his hair, his face. Warm liquid trickled from everywhere, mingling with his salty tears. He just wanted them to  _ stop _ . They wouldn’t stop! Their words dug deep into his brain and hibernated there, like worms seeking shelter from the dry heat.

But it wasn’t warm. No, no, it would be better to say they burrowed deep inside his brain to hide from the cold like snakes, cold blooded creatures that desired the warmth and light he gave, sucking all that he had from him.

He was their beacon, their hope. They were his nightmare.

“Stop,” he said. Or he thought he said. He couldn’t tell. 

But all at once, the noise quieted to reasonable levels, the only sounds bouncing around in his mind. The hands on his arms fell away, and he was left shivering violently in their wake. He curled away from them, backing into the wall once again and allowing the cold stone to replace the burning touches.

“Stop, stop . . .” Klaus (his name, Number Four, Klaus) wrapped his arms securely around himself and buried his face into his knees. “No more. Please.”

He wasn’t sure what he was protesting to anymore. They had left him alone. He was alone. So . . . so that’s good. But he’s still trapped. How does he get out?

“Ellicott,” a soft voice said above him. He shrunk away from them, but they didn’t come closer or touch him or say his name. “You have to get rid of Ellicott if you want to leave.”

A murmur of agreements sounded through the room. Klaus took a chance and peeked over the top of his knees. The ghosts that had swarmed him were still there (the ghosts of his mind never left), and images faded in and out. One second he was in the mausoleum, the next he was in the asylum. Stone and grey and dirt and dark. But different.

For starters, he could see beyond the ghosts. He could never do that in the mausoleum. It was too dark, and there were too many ghosts. But here, moonlight illuminated dead faces and grimy floors.

A woman with a deformed and bloodied eye spoke, the voice the same as before. “Ellicott is the reason you and the others are trapped. Kill him.”

The surge of angered mutters had Klaus drawing back into his knees again.

“Others?” he asked quietly. These ghosts listened to him . . . they answered his question. Would they continue being nice?

A growl by the man with the straight jacket. Maybe “nice” wasn’t the right word.

“The tall one is like us,” the woman said. “Ellicott hurt him, like us.”

The others repeated “like us” at a low hum. Klaus shook.

“H-How do I stop Ellicott?” Klaus asked tentatively. The screaming at the back of his mind muddled his thoughts, but the ghosts before him perked up and moved forward again. He backed away from them until they paused. “Please, no. Don’t. I just want to go home.”

Where was home again? His memories outside of this place were foggy. He remembered a face, Asian in features, but his brain couldn’t connect the dots through the haze of fear.

“Follow,” the woman ghost waved a hand. “Ellicott is here. Stop him.”

He didn’t want to leave his space. These ghosts hadn’t screamed at him, had listened to him, but he wasn’t sure if that would last. Breaking away from something solid at his back was terrifying. They could surround him. They could get him from any angle.

“Follow.”

The ghosts parted around him, giving him a clear path towards the ghost woman. He swallowed thickly.

A sudden urgency took over his mind, something telling him that if he didn’t follow her  _ right now _ something terrible would happen. He was standing on wobbly legs before he could question it.

He followed the woman through the hallways, vision flipping back and forth between two places and mind slipping through his fingers.

Dean gasped for breath, then coughed as his lungs protested. He groggily looked at Sam, the gun in his brother’s hand much more intimidating than it had any right to be. Sam stepped over the remains of the splintered door while Dean tried to get back his breath.

“Sam,” he groaned out. “We gotta burn Ellicott’s bones, and all of this will be over, and you’ll be back to normal.”

“I am normal,” Sam said, the undercurrent of hysteria giving him away. “I’m just telling the truth for the first time.”

Dean coughed and looked up at his bleeding, ghostly crazy brother. He needed a plan.

Well, other than hurting Sammy. Maybe.

“I mean, why are we even here?” Sam went on, waving the gun around. “‘Cause  _ you’re _ following Dad’s orders like a good, little soldier? ‘Cause you always do what he says without question?”

Rude. He followed Dad’s orders because Dad knew more than them. He knew what needed to happen. Was he a good father? Probably not, from what Klaus and Ben had explained to him. But Dad knew best, especially when it came to hunting.

“Are you that desperate for his approval?”

“This isn’t you talking, Sam,” Dean sighed out, pretending that he was still struggling on the floor to get upright again. Maybe he could distract Sam long enough to lay him flat.

“That’s the difference between you and me,” Sam went on, as though Dean hadn’t said a word. “I have a mind of my own.” He pointed the gun at his head.

Dean resisted the need to laugh at that. Sam was a genius, that much was true, and he questioned  _ every little thing _ , but at the moment? Hah!

“I’m not pathetic, like you,” the gun returned to Dean’s chest.

“So what are you gonna do?” Dean asked. “Are you gonna kill me?”

“I am  _ sick _ of doing what you tell me to do. We’re no closer to finding Dad today than we were six months ago.”

“Well then, here,” Dean rolled over so he could get his pistol out. The real deal. A shot from that would kill him. He lifted it up for Sam to take. “Let me make it easier for you.”

Confusion crossed Sammy’s features. His brows came together and the familiar worried, puppy-eyed look returned as he tilted his head.  _ That’s my Sammy. Where’d you go? _

“Come on,” Dean held it up closer to his brother’s hand. “Take it. Real bullets are gonna work a hell of a lot better than rock salt.”

Sam hesitated.

“Take it.”

With a grunt, Sam lunged for the weapon, discarding his other gun for the pistol. Dean just stared at him as his little brother leveled the weapon at his head.

“You hate me that much?” Dean asked, voice quiet. Sam’s bared teeth disappeared as a conflicted frown twisted his face. “You think you can kill your own brother?”

Tears gathered in Sam’s eyes.

“Then go ahead.”

The tears were blinked away.

“Pull the trigger.”

A tense silence followed, and Dean remained on his back, weaponless and vulnerable. Completely at his brother’s mercy.

Sam hesitated.

“Do it!”

The gun clicked.

Nothing happened.

Sam furrowed his brows and clicked the trigger a few more times. Dean grabbed his brother’s hands and pulled him down, slamming his fist square across Sam’s jaw. His little brother went down with a yell. Dean groaned as the forming bruise from the salt-gun shot throbbed.

Slowly, Dean got to his feet, Sam moaning in pain on the floor. “Man, I’m not gonna give you a loaded pistol.” His brother shuffled for his gun again, and Dean was quick to punch him out.

“Sorry, Sammy,” Dean whispered, patting Sam’s back. Time to find Ellicott’s remains and fix his annoying little brother.

Klaus walked into a room that held several more ghosts to add to the entourage that followed him. He froze, however, when a specific presence gave him dark feelings and made the other ghosts shuffle away. 

He remembered this presence. He wasn’t sure when he had felt it, but he knew it was not a good one.

It reminded him of someone that he didn’t want to remember. He didn’t like that.

“Ellicott,” the woman he had followed pointed to a man that drifted through curtains and towards a dark shadow. “Stop him.”

“How?” Klaus asked.

“Stop him.” She disappeared.

Klaus shuffled forward, no plan and trembling, when his foot caught on something. A person lay sprawled on the floor. He tilted his head to the side to get a look at their face.

The man looked familiar to him. He couldn’t place a name, though. Shaggy brown hair and a dark hoodie that did nothing to hide the filled out, toned body underneath. He would be Klaus’s type, but something told him that trying to go after this man was a really disgusting idea.

Blood dribbled from the man’s nose, and Klaus knelt to take a pulse. He relaxed in relief when a steady heartbeat thumped against his two fingers.

Hinges squeaked and a male voice grunted in disgust before gagging. Klaus looked up from the man on the floor and scrambled to his feet. Cautiously, he moved for the curtain, wondering just how he was supposed to stop the ghost. He’d never been able to before. Or . . . maybe he could? He didn’t know.

The smell of decay and gasoline filtered through the air, and Klaus pulled the curtain back just in time to see a man, previously crouching over a dead body in a cabinet, being attacked by Ellicott, the ghost Klaus needed to stop somehow. Electricity arced from the ghost’s fingers and into the man’s brain, and Klaus watched in horror as the man screamed silently beneath Ellicott.

“Don’t worry,” Ellicott said. “I’m going to make you all better.”

“S-Stop!” Klaus shouted. He threw out his hands, but nothing happened and the ghost didn’t listen.  _ They never listen _ .

The man’s eyes flicked to him, and he couldn’t tell what emotion the man was conveying other than  _ pain _ . And . . . Klaus understood that feeling so well. Especially here. Especially now.

What could he  _ do _ ?

The man reached out blindly for something on the floor, hand scrabbling over dirty concrete. Klaus fell to his knees, searching for what the other needed.

The man’s fingers brushed over a lighter, and Klaus saw him flick it on and aim for the dead body in the cabinet. He wouldn’t reach it, and his throw would be severely hindered by the ghost.

As soon as the lighter left the man’s hand, instinct took over. Klaus felt a tug deep in his chest, and a blue glow enveloped the lighter. He willed for the toss to make it, and it  _ did _ .

He was pretty sure that had never happened before.

The body went up in flames, and the ghost crumbled to dust with it. The man, now free from the attack, stared at Klaus and breathed heavily.

Klaus felt lightheaded and woozy. He held himself up on his knees.

“What was that?” the man asked. “And  _ how did you get in here _ .”

“Heh . . . funny story . . .” and Klaus fell forward into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's poor back must be hurting from carrying the majority of this hunt lmao.   
> Thank you for reading!!


	47. Your Little Brother Never Tells You but He Loves You So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is Freaking Out. Klaus is Out. Sam and Dean probably need to talk. A wild Vanya appears!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I'm tired.

Ben waited and waited, but no one came in or out, and none of the doors or windows opened. Usually, he was a very patient person (had to be when his brother was one Klaus Hargreeves), but he hadn’t heard anything from Klaus or the rest in  _ way _ too long and he couldn’t get inside no matter how much Jamin bashed against the doors and his stress levels were through the  _ roof _ \--

So, all in all, Ben was losing it.

Scrambling for the back of the car, Ben dug through Klaus’s things until he located the burner phone. He flipped it open and hit speed dial on the first number: Dean’s.

It rang. And rang. And rang . . .  _ Hi, this is Dean Winchester-- _

Ben hung up and tried Sam. It also rang until it hit voicemail. Ben cursed and tried a few more times, keeping his eyes trained on the locked doors.

The doors that stubbornly kept him away from his family. His family that was in  _ danger _ . He hated those doors.

Each time he called, it just rang and rang. No one picked up.

“Dammit!” He just about threw the phone in frustration. Lucky for him (and Klaus’s phone), the line began to ring, and he didn’t bother checking who it was before he answered. “Klaus better be fine or I swear to--”

“Um . . .” a quiet, female voice stuttered over the line, and Ben froze, eyes widening. “Wh-Who is this?”

_ Vanya _ .

“No one,” he coughed, deepening his voice. It sounded ridiculous to his own ears, clearly fake given that he hadn’t quite finished puberty when he died so his voice hadn’t lowered. “Sorry, wrong number?”

He winced. That wasn’t supposed to sound like a question.

“You said Klaus . . . And this is Klaus’s number,” Vanya said shakily. “D-Do you know Klaus?”

_ Dammit _ . He couldn’t just say  _ no _ , she obviously knew he would be lying. She was just too sweet to point it out.

“U-Uh,” he floundered, no idea how to fix this situation. “Yes . . .?”

“He hasn’t called yet and I’m worried,” she said, and Ben’s heart sank. At least she didn’t assume that he forgot to call on purpose. “Can you put him on?”

“Uh, he’s busy,” Ben bit his lip and cursed silently. Vanya didn’t say anything. “I can take a message.”

“No that’s . . .” she paused, and Ben tensed when she said, “Do I know you?”

Ben scrambled for the car door, suddenly wanting the outside air (even if he couldn’t breathe, the cool air felt nice). He didn’t hang up, but he didn’t answer, because what was he supposed to  _ do _ ?

A part of him wanted to just hang up and forget about the crazy conversation.

Another part wanted desperately to talk to Vanya.

He missed the other members of his family. Don’t get him wrong, he loved Klaus in all of his assholeish glory, but he hadn’t seen his other siblings in four--almost five--months (not counting the time that Ben and Klaus had spent on the streets, since he could read articles about the others and sometimes see them in the city). Now he and Klaus were miles away from the siblings that they left behind and he had no way of communicating with them other than phone.

(His unhelpful mind supplied that he couldn’t exactly do that before, either. He flipped it off.)

“You sound familiar,” she stated. He took in a shaky breath, hoping it would calm him down. Of course it didn’t. He didn’t have lungs.

“I . . . Who do I sound like?” he asked quietly, hoping that she would know who he was without him having to say.

He also hoped she wouldn’t have any idea who he was and hang up.

“I don’t . . .” she paused again. “I don’t know. No. I can’t know. Because that’s impossible.”

“Impossible?” he huffed. “Have you met Klaus? He does the impossible on the regular.”

“He . . . he mentioned that he was growing in his powers . . .” her voice turned shaky and suddenly Ben had the feeling that this was a terrible idea and he should have hung up after all.

Ben gripped the phone so tight it squeaked. “And . . .?” he asked softly.

Anxiety gripped him, mimicking the actions of an actual person in distress, his throat closing and “heart” thumping painfully in his chest. This was it. This would either make or break his relationship with his sister, whom he hadn’t seen in forever, who thought death was the end. She thought he was  _ gone _ . He wasn’t gone. Just dead.

Which arguably was worse, since the only one who could see him was Klaus.

“. . . Ben?” the shaky question knocked Ben back. He swallowed thickly past the lump.

“Y-Yeah,” he whispered. “Hey, Van.”

His sister made a strangled sound and then the disconnection tone rang. He pulled the phone away and found that she had, indeed, hung up on him. He wasn’t sure how to react to that.

Numb, he let his hand fall to his side. How was he supposed to feel? Elated that he got to talk to one of his favorite siblings? Sad that it wasn’t for long? Or betrayed because she hung up so quickly when she realized who it was?

The sting in his chest overpowered the rest, but he didn’t want to feel so sour. He got to talk to her! But . . . why did she hang up? What did he do wrong? Was it because he’s dead?

If he could, he would cry. As it was, ghostly tears that didn’t leave salty tracks or sting his eyes formed at the corners. Anger and sorrow swirled in his gut. Not for the first time, he wished he hadn’t died. He wanted to curse his fate.

A loud squeal of metal brought him out of his stupor.

Klaus.

He tossed the phone into Klaus’s duffle bag and ran for the now opening doors. Two figures stumbled out, one carrying a bundle of some sort. The dark and impenetrable force that had kept him away from the rest was gone. The ghosts, too, seemed to have disappeared, aside from one ghastly looking woman with only one eye that kept close to the figures who approached.

Ah, Sam and Dean. And Klaus, bundled in Dean’s arms as the man headed for the car.

“Klaus!” Ben rushed forward and hovered around Dean, checking for wounds or reasons for his brother to be unconscious. He hissed at the ghost woman when she got too close, and she vanished quickly.

_ Good. _

**_Agreed_ ** .

Ben huffed, then ran a hand through Klaus’s curls, searching for blood and the like. Nothing.

“Is he okay?” he asked.

Dean shrugged. “Kid passed out as soon as he worked his mojo. Which, apparently he’s got more mojo? New magic crap.”

“It’s not magic, Dean,” Sam chuckled. Sam looked  _ awful _ , and beat to hell. A large bruise was already forming on his cheek, and his lip was split. Dirt caked the side of his face, which he was attempting to wipe away subtly.

“What happened in there?” Ben asked, nose pinched.

“Well, Ellicott did some not good things to patients,” Dean said, “Klaus somehow managed to get inside a murder hospital, and Sam tried to kill me.”

“Wait, what?”

Sam blushed. “It wasn’t me! Ellicott zapped my brain.”

“Sure sounded intentional,” Dean grunted.

“. . . Do we need to talk about this?” Sam asked.

“Nah, I ain’t about that mushy crap,” Dean lowered Klaus into the back seat and checked over the other once more before rounding the car to the driver’s seat.

“It really wasn’t me, Dean,” Sam insisted. “Everything I said wasn’t real.”

“So you remember it?”

“Bits and pieces . . .”

Ben tuned them out. All of them were alive, and they all made it out of there. That’s all that mattered. He huddled between the benches in the back and watched as Klaus slept, eyes locked so hard on his brother that he was sure they would be incredibly tired and dry and tunneled if he was alive. Being dead had its perks.

Well, unless your sister called and you scared her away because  _ dead people don’t talk to living people _ .

He sighed, resting his chin on his knees. For once, just one time, could things go their way?

Klaus lay still, near peaceful, without a mark on him other than--Ben was sure--the mental scars he had endured today. Ben knew the ghosts got bad, and now they could kill people too. Hearing Klaus’s screams, hearing him call his name . . . it was terrifying. He was so scared that Klaus might actually end up like him. Klaus was the only link Ben had left to life. He  _ couldn’t _ lose him.

But Klaus came back, unhurt. He wasn’t sure what the ghosts had done to him, but he was determined to fix it.

Ben startled as a phone rang. Sam and Dean were quiet up front, tension thick, but neither moved for one of their devices. Not even the glove box where they stashed their back up burners. Ben realized it was Klaus’s phone.

He grabbed it, fumbling for a second until the screen lit up and he shoved it to his ear. “Hello?” he asked, voice quieter than he wanted.

There was static on the other end, and Ben pulled the phone away to look at the number. It wasn’t one he recognized.

“Hello?” he asked, a little louder. “How did you get this number?”

The static gave way to a gruff voice, “I should ask you the same.”

A chill ran through Ben, and he burned a hole in the leather bench with his gaze. “No one should have this number,” he growled. Jamin stirred under his hoodie.

“Well, no one should have this  _ phone _ ,” the man growled back. Ben gripped Klaus’s hand for support before Jamin could go crazy.

**_Klaus Klaus Klaus Klaus. protectklauskeepklaussafe. klaus klaus klaus klausklausklausk--_ **

He willed Jamin to keep calm, leaning further towards his brother so the Horror knew the other boy was safe.

“This is my brother’s phone,” Ben said. “So, I ask again,  _ how did you get this number _ .”

The static returned, and seconds later the call disconnected. Jamin wrapped a tentacle around Klaus’s frail wrist and held on tightly. Ben didn’t worry about them hurting his brother, but he did remind them that humans were much more fragile. Jamin grumbled and loosened the grip just the tiniest bit.

Ben tossed the phone to the front and Sam startled. “Klaus needs a new phone,” Ben stated. “Someone we don’t know just called. If it’s someone that’s related to Dad, then they could find us and take us back.”

Jamin didn’t like that idea, and growled threateningly. Ben rubbed a hand over his tummy.

“Ah . . . okay,” Sam nodded once and set the burner phone aside. “Maybe when we hit the next bar we can get enough for a personal number.”

Ben smiled wearily, so tired of being afraid of their asshole father. “Thanks Sam.”

The rest of the drive was comfortably quiet aside from the rumble of the engine.

Klaus woke to Ben’s soothing voice chatting beside him, cold fingers carding through his curls. He sighed contentedly and nuzzled further into Ben’s lap. The hands stopped, and Klaus whined.

“Noooo, don’t stop.”

Ben froze beneath him, and Klaus chased the hand that pulled away. “Klaus, are you awake?”

Klaus huffed and deigned to ignore the question. No, he wasn’t awake, and wouldn’t be for forever. Leave him be.

But Ben wasn’t anything but insistent, and he repeated the question. Klaus groaned.

“Ugh,  _ fine _ , I’m up you gremlin bastard.”

Ben didn’t chuckle under him, and Klaus peeked an eye up at the boy. The flash of concern he spotted was gone in an instant, replaced with a strained smile. “Says the garbage troll.”

“Where’d you get that insult, the discount bin?”

“Same place you got your sense of fashion.”

“Ouch,” Klaus grinned and finally moved until he was sitting up. Ben’s hands made an aborted move to help him up, and he raised a brow as the hands came back down to rest in Ben’s lap. “Everything good?”

Ben didn’t move or say anything. He did glance to the side, though, where Sam and Dean were laying side by side on the large queen bed across from them. Klaus realized they were in a motel room already, the clock on the nightstand showing glowing red symbols  _ 1:29am _ .

“. . . How long was I out?” Klaus couldn’t really remember what happened after he came down from his high. It was like there was something blocking the memory

“A few hours,” Ben rubbed the back of his head. “Like . . . three?”

Klaus nodded, scrunching his nose. “What happened? I . . .” he remembered hearing the doors slam and the windows lock, trapping Sam and Dean inside . . .

“You don’t remember?” Ben asked, worry coating his tone.

Klaus pulled his knees in closer and hugged them. “Not really . . . Maybe? I went inside the asylum to help Sam and Dean, right?”

Ben winced but nodded. “Yeah, you did.” He fiddled with his fingers.

“And then . . .” The memories didn’t want to come to him. Something seemed to warn him against poking at it, like if he pushed too far something bad would happen.

“And then the doors closed, and I couldn’t follow,” Ben shrugged listlessly, gaze far away.

Klaus stuttered to a stop as terror overcame him. Memories trickled in, then flooded.

_ He was there again, oh no, no no no no please no-- _

_ Where was Ben? Did he leave? Why? What did he do wrong? _

_ He must have done something terrible if Ben didn’t fight back and take Klaus to safety. Unless his brother hated him like he thought? _

_ No no no nononononononono-- _

_ They’re coming they’re coming they’recomingthey-- _

_ Hands, so many hands-- _

_ Cold cold cold-- _

_ Scream-- _

_ Ben-- _

_ Stop-- _

_ Please-- _

Klaus scrambled for Ben’s hand and squeezed tightly, breaths coming in too quickly. Ben reciprocated the pressure and scooted closer. Klaus didn’t hesitate to use his other arm to hold Ben close.

“Where did you go?” he whispered. 

“I didn’t want to,” Ben whined, holding just as tightly to Klaus. “I couldn’t get in. A-And I couldn’t break in.”

“There were so many of them . . .”

“I’m sorry--”

“Don’t,” Klaus shook his head. “Don’t say it. Just . . . be here.”

Ben nodded quickly. “I promise.”

Klaus relaxed the tiniest bit, further when he felt Jamin wrap themselves around his waist.

“I . . . I heard you,” Ben admitted softly. “You were screaming. You were so scared . . . I thought you were gonna  _ die _ .”

Klaus tried to brush it off with humor. “As if you could get rid of me so easily.”

Ben just squeezed him tighter.

“Ben?”

“I . . . I also talked to Vanya.”

Klaus pulled back so fast that Jamin tightened their grip on him in alarm. He patted the tentacles comfortingly until they let up a bit and he could breathe. “You what?” he asked. “How? When? What?”

Ben nodded, eyes glittering. “She called asking for you. She was worried. I mean, so was I,” he huffed.

Klaus made a high pitched whine. “I missed your first conversation with her?”

He cracked a small grin, then sobered. “She, uh, didn’t handle talking to me very well. She hung up as soon as she figured out it was me.”

Klaus’s heart fell at the expression on Ben’s face. “Hey, no no, don’t think negative thoughts, Benny. It wasn’t because of you.”

A disparaging laugh left his lips. “I think it was pretty obvious that she hung up because it was me. She didn’t even wait to know if you were okay.”

“She was just excited, I’m sure. You know Vanya. She loves too much. She might have gotten overwhelmed with how much she missed you and hung up out of reflex.”

He grimaced. “I don’t think so. I freaked her out.”

“Aw Ben,” he held open his arms. “Come here.”

Ben huddled under Klaus’s arms and the (technically) older of the two held him close.

“It’ll be okay.”

“I should be saying that to you,” he grumped. “You’re the one that got trapped in the asylum.”

Klaus shivered. “Don’t remind me.”

“. . . Sorry.”

Klaus hummed and pet Ben’s hair.

“. . . What did happen, Klaus?” his brother asked, sitting up to face him. “It sounded like they were tearing you apart.”

Klaus winced and shook his head. “Later? I really don’t wanna think about it right now.”

“Yeah . . . yeah okay.”

They both rested against the headboard, holding onto each other for comfort. The soft mattress dipped under their combined weight and brought them even closer. Klaus felt the most relaxed he had in days, knowing that Ben would keep him safe like this.

The night buzz made Klaus drowsy, cars lazily driving by and lights blinking out for the rest of the night, and it didn’t help that Ben was humming a soothing tune into his ear. Damn cheater.

The ringing of Dean’s phone brought everyone out of slumber and Sam groaned. “Dean, phone.”

Dean just grunted.

Sam sighed and rolled over to grab Dean’s phone. He flicked it open, pressing it against the side of his head, and with a bored tone he asked, “Hello?”

From one second to the next, Sam went from lazy and relaxed to upright and tensed.

“Dad?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	48. The Silence is Slowly Killin' Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conversation with Johnny boy. Sam is skeptical about all of this, and angry with his father's choices. Dean is upset with Sam's reluctance to follow orders. Klaus just doesn't want his new family to fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies  
> This week was something else lol  
> I'm trying to get a teaching job for winter and my fingers are crossed so hard they feel numb. My competition is honestly the best of the best (imo) in the dance community, so I gotta really pray hahaha  
> Enjoy this chapter!

“Hello?” Sam grunted into the phone.

“Sam, is that you?” the familiar gruff voice on the other end asked with a grin.

“Dad?” Sam was upright and stiff as a board. “Where are you, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Dad reassured.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he said. “We didn’t know where you were, if you were okay.”

“Sammy, I’m alright.”

Sam hated it when anyone called him “Sammy”. It reminded him of a 10 year old chubby kid with a gap-tooth smile. He hated it, and yet he couldn’t help the fond warmth in his chest at the nickname coming from his dad.

“What about you and Dean?”

“Well, we’re fine,” Sam said, glancing at his brother, who was sitting at attention at his side. Dean held an open palm out for the phone, but Sam shook his head. “Dad, where are you?”

Dad didn’t hesitate to say, “Sorry kiddo, I can’t tell you that.”

“What? Why not?”

“Sam, give me the phone,” Dean said urgently.

“Look, I know this is hard for you to understand,” Dad went on. Klaus and Ben watched with hawk eyes on the bed next to them. “You’re just gonna have to trust me on this.”

Sam paused, realization creeping in on him, dark and festering. He knew. Dad knew. “You’re after it, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. “The thing that killed Mom.”

“Yeah,” Dad sighed. “It’s a demon, Sam.”

“A demon? You know for sure?”

Dean grabbed his shirt and threw it on, still listening to half the conversation and waiting for the moment he could take the phone back. Sam held up a hand.

“I do,” Dad agreed. “Listen, Sammy, I, uh . . .” he took a moment, whether to gather his thoughts or to give Sam a heart attack, he wasn’t sure. “I also know what happened to your girlfriend.”

Sam froze entirely, breath slowing to a stop and teeth grinding together. He was surprised at the anger that bubbled up.

“I’m so sorry,” Dad said. “I would have done anything to protect you from that.”

Throat closing up, Sam swallowed a few times before he could say, “You know where it is?”

“Yeah, I think I’m finally closing in on it.”

“Let us help.”

“You can’t. You can’t be any part of it.”

“Why not?” Sam could think of tons of reasons why he could be part of it. This whole mess  _ started  _ with him, and it was looking like it would have to end with him, too. Besides, a very eccentric medium came to mind in the ways that having them along would be the  _ best _ idea for everyone involved.

“Give me the phone,” Dean said, reaching out for it again. Sam didn’t hand it over.

“Listen, Sammy, that’s why I’m calling,” Dad said, and Sam bit his lip. “You and your brother have to stop looking for me.”

What? That was the stupidest idea! No way could they just  _ stop _ . Sam had seen the way that Dean was losing hope every day, ever since Dad went missing. Plus, Sam  _ had  _ to be in on this. He couldn’t just ignore it all!

(Jessica deserved more than him turning tail at the last moment.)

“Now I need you to write these names down,” Dad said before he could even get his thoughts in order.

“Names? Wh . . . What names? Dad . . .” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “Just talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Look, we don’t have time for this. This is bigger than you think. They’re everywhere. Even us talking right now? It’s not safe.”

“No,” Sam’s voice wavered. It was too much, all at once. He couldn’t. “All right? No way.”

“Give me the phone,” Dean repeated, getting heated.

“I’ve given you an order,” Dad growled out. 

_ Bubbling rage, deep in his stomach, waiting to be released. _

“Now you stop following me--”

_ Dad never treated them like children. He treated them like soldiers. _

“--and you do your job. You understand me?”

_ Sam  _ wasn’t _ a soldier. _

“Now take down these names.”

Before he could let loose the torrent brewing inside, Dean snagged the phone from him and pressed it to his own ear. Sam lost the fight. He brought a fist to his lips.

“Dad, it’s me,” Dean said. “Where are you?”

And just as he expected, the change was immediate. Gone was the lost puppy look in Dean’s gaze. Gone was the boy who just needed a father.

In its place was the hard soldier that Dad had shaped Sam’s brother into.

“Yes, sir,” Dean’s gruff, no nonsense tone made Sam want to cry. He looked away as Dean followed Dad’s orders.

His eyes landed on Klaus and Ben, who were equal parts confused and sorrowful as they watched Dean. Klaus sighed heavily and flopped back down.

“Guess this means the hunt is off?”

No, the hunt was not off. In fact, dear Johnny Winchester had sent his boys on a new hunt, one that involved a bunch of couples that went missing, all around the same area. Different states, different names. Pretty out there, too, like New York, Colorado, and Washington. Story was that each couple went on a road trip and didn’t make it to their destination. Each route took them through the same area of Indiana, second week of April, and each couple vanished one year after the other.

“Spooky,” Klaus mumbled from the back seat. Ben hummed in agreement, playing with Klaus’s long fingers out of boredom. Klaus let him.

“This  _ is _ the second week of April,” Sam commented from where he drove. Which was surprising on it’s own, but Klaus had noticed that Dean had kept the phone their dad had called on far far away from the middle sibling. He guessed the elder wanted to keep Sam from rooting for the phone and trying to call their dad again.

That had been the most tense phone call Klaus had ever witnessed, and he had had phone conversations with Luther. There was obviously some unresolved tension between Sam and his dad, and Klaus wasn’t sure if he wanted to get into the middle of it.

“Yep,” Dean said.

“And Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?” Sam’s voice was hard, and an uneasy feeling grew in Klaus’s gut.

“Yahtzee,” Dean pointed at his brother. He paused, looking through the spreadsheet they put together in a rush before they left. “Can you imagine puttin’ together a pattern like this? The different obits Dad had to go through? The man’s a master.”

Ben and Klaus tensed at the same time, just as Sam let out a harsh breath and pulled off the side of the road. Dean looked up in confusion, but Klaus and Ben shared a nervous look.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked.

Sam parked the car. “We’re not going to Indiana.”

“. . . We’re not?”

“No,” Sam, with a determined look in his eye, turned to Dean. “We’re going to California.”

Dean raised a brow.

“Dad made the call from a payphone. Sacramento area code.”

“Sam--”

“Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess and Dad’s closing in, we gotta be there. We’ve gotta help.”

Dean was already shaking his head. “Dad doesn’t  _ want _ our help.”

“Well I don’t care.”

Klaus’s grip tightened on Ben’s hand. He didn’t like where this was going. It reminded him too much of the fights that Diego and Luther had.

“He’s given us an order,” Dean said. Klaus sighed. The progress they had slowly made with Dean seemed to have been thrown out the window as soon as their dad had called. Well, not all of it, but enough to piss off Sam, apparently.

“I don’t  _ care _ ,” Sam frowned. “We don’t always have to do what he says.”

Klaus had to give Sam points for that. They were adults after all. Hell, Klaus didn’t do what Daddy Dearest said regardless of age because he wanted to spite Reginald. If he ever met John Winchester, he was sure he wouldn’t be taking any orders from the man, possibly do the complete opposite. Screw the hierarchy. 

“Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save  _ lives _ . It’s important.”

And Dean did have a point there. Klaus was never really a selfless guy, though, not unless it came to someone he truly cared about (and even then it could be debatable). So, while he knew that people were important and whatever, he didn’t really feel the need to save others (whereas Luther was adamant that they save as many people as they could, golden boy that he was).

So . . . Klaus wasn’t as on the fence about this discussion. He leaned more towards Sam’s side, especially since that seemed like the obvious thing to do. Demons sounded scary, sure, but revenge for Sam’s girlfriend? Worth it. Poor man had been beating himself up over the whole thing for way too long. If it helped, Klaus wanted to risk it.

Ben seemed more on the fence, however, since he glanced between the older brothers with a conflicted face. When they met eyes, Ben shook his head sadly, his ever present wisdom not coming to him in this moment.

“All right, I understand,” Sam’s voice grew sharper. “Believe me, I understand. But I’m talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get  _ revenge _ .”

And just like that, Dean’s face closed off. “All right, look, I know how you feel--”

“Do you?” Sam desperately cried. A look of surprise flitted over Dean’s features. Sam laughed humorlessly. “How old were you when Mom died? 4?”

Dean’s jaw clenched.

“Jess died six months ago,” he said. “How the  _ hell _ would you know how I feel?”

The car slipped into uncomfortable silence, and Klaus’s eyes darted between the two with growing dread. Should he speak up before it spirals? Diego and Luther would just ignore him, and he still didn’t know exactly how to calm down these two without making it worse. 

“Dad said it wasn’t safe,” Dean glanced back at Klaus and he stiffened. “For any of us.”

Sam shook his head in frustration.

“I mean, he obviously knows something that we don’t. So if he says to stay away, we  _ stay away _ .” Dean’s voice grew steadily louder the longer he went. Klaus shrunk in his seat.

“I don’t understand the blind faith you have in the man,” Sam said exasperatedly. “I mean, it’s like you don’t even question him.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not true. Dad told us all ghosts were evil. Ben’s in the back seat.”

Ben flinched and faded from view save for Klaus. Klaus glared at Dean. “Hey.”

“What? It’s true. Ben’s the friendliest Casper we’ve come across. That’s against what Dad told us.”

Sam shook his head again, getting more frantic. “And yet here we are, following his orders. Tell me, if Dad told you to get rid of Ben, would you?”

Klaus held his breath, Ben looking wild eyed at Sam, then at Dean. The eldest floundered, mouth gaping in shock, and Klaus’s eyes watered.

“No,” Dean said, hoarse. “No! Of course--” he whipped to face the back, green eyes wide. “Of course not! This is different and you know it.”

“Yeah?” Sam challenged. “So then we go to California and come back to this later. Disobey  _ one _ of Dad’s orders, Dean.”

Dean paled, and shook his head. “We can’t, Sam.”

“Why not.”

“Because we can’t! Dad told us not to. It’s too dangerous.”

“Name one reason why we shouldn’t help Dad, then, because if it’s dangerous he shouldn’t be doing this alone.”

“It’s called being a good son.”

Klaus’s jaw dropped. That . . . How could Dean say something like that? Sam’s nostrils flared, and the door squealed open with a harsh tug. The middle brother stepped out and slammed the door shut, rocking the whole car.

Dean sighed and stepped out to follow, and Klaus scrambled for the handle, Ben at his heels.

Anger radiated from Sam like a heat wave, and the man shoved the trunk closed after grabbing his duffle with so much force that the car bounced.

“You’re a selfish bastard, you know that?” Dean asked, rounding the car. “You just do whatever you want. Don’t care what anybody thinks.”

“That’s really what you think?” Sam smiled brittlely.

“Yes, it is.”

There was something deeper there. Klaus was terrified to ask what it was.

Sam scoffed, hiking his duffle higher up his shoulder. “Well, then this selfish bastard is going to California.”

He started walking. Klaus’s throat closed and he made an aborted step forward, eyes wide and locked on Sam’s retreating form.

“Come on, you’re not serious,” Dean said.

As serious as he could make it, Sam said, “I am serious.”

“It’s the middle of the night!”

Sam shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t stop. Klaus shuffled forward, hand outstretched as though he could prevent Sam from leaving.

“Hey, we’re taking off,” Dean threatened. “I will leave your ass, you hear me!”

Sam stopped and turned around, and for the briefest moment, Klaus had hope flutter in his stomach. Sam glared at Dean, and the hope shattered.

“That’s what I want you to do.”

The wind was knocked from Klaus’s sails. He feverishly looked between the two, wondering how this could have gone so wrong so fast. Dean let a fake smile flash across his face. 

“Goodbye Sam,” He whipped around and stalked for the driver side door.

“So that’s it?” Klaus asked, voice trembling. “You’re leaving? Both of you?”

He got no response.

“I . . .” he swallowed. He couldn’t just . . . He couldn’t  _ leave _ Sam. But he couldn’t leave Dean either. What was he supposed to do?

“Get in the car, Klaus,” Dean’s voice carried over the wind. Sam was still about two hundred feet away, staring at him, daring him to choose. Klaus’s eyes stung.

“No,” he said, folding his arms across his chest to ward off the chill.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Sam said nothing, just watched.

“I said no,” Klaus said, firmer. “I can’t. I won’t.”

A muscle twitched in Dean’s jaw. Ben remained a steady presence at his side, and Klaus took courage from that.

“Dammit, Klaus, get in the car!”

“No!” Klaus shook his head. “Not until you two work this out.”

Sam scoffed and turned on his heel, stomping away. Dean turned the engine over.

“Looks like it’s not gonna happen, kid,” Dean grunted. “Now get in before you freeze to death.”

Klaus sat down, right there in the middle of the road, pants already getting soaked from the rain water speckled across the asphalt. “I meant what I said. I’m not leaving, and I’m not moving, until you two figure this out.”

Ben sat by his side, nodding his agreement. Klaus hid his triumphant smile as best he could.

Dean bit his cheek, eyes flashing with anger, and he shifted the gear into drive. “Fine. You know where to find us.”

And he drove off.

The night was much colder and scarier with his older brothers missing. Klaus shivered and pulled his knees closer and ignored the whispers on the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If there are any mistakes or things that don't make sense, let me know in the comments <3


	49. Je Suis La Reine Des Drames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the boys are up to. Also, enter Handsome Man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been SO EXCITED to get to this chapter, y'all have no idea. I really hope I did it justice lol  
> TW: Klaus just about freezes to death, poor boy.

Morning light filtered through the trees overhead as Baby’s engine rumbled down the street. He took a moment to find a place to park before he set out to ask some questions about the couples.

Dean had arrived in the small town in Indiana just a little before dawn, right as the rain from the night before let up. The speckles on the windshield reminded him of the time when Klaus and Ben had “raced” water droplets in the back seat on a long ride. Ben had won the race, his droplet merging with a larger one to take it all the way to the bottom while Klaus’s had run out of steam halfway down the window. Klaus had called it cheating, Ben had been smug. He could still remember the annoying whine Klaus made as Ben had laughed.

Dean missed his brothers.

Flipping open his phone, he scrolled through his messages, hoping a new one had somehow magically appeared in the last five minutes.

Nothing.

Sam hadn’t spoken to him since their fight. Klaus (and subsequently Ben) had also been silent from the fight. His thumb hovered over Sam’s name, but he flipped the phone closed before he got any ideas.

He let his anger over the situation mask the worry swirling in his gut.

Dean stepped out of the car and marched through the rain-soaked streets towards a small diner, where an older man sat on the porch and eyed him carefully. The sign over the man’s head read “Scotty’s Café”. Best place to ask around, being that restaurants and diners always held the most intel. People frequented food areas. If anyone had seen anything, it would be where the food was.

He stopped beside the man, who’s salt and pepper hair brushed the collar of his jacket. The man raised a brow at him.

“Let me guess--Scotty?” Dean asked, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

The man glanced up at the sign with an unimpressed look, and nodded. “Yep.”

Dean sighed inwardly. Tight responses usually meant it would take much longer to get the information he needed. “Hi. My name’s John Bonham.”

Before he could continue, Scotty said, “Isn’t that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?”

Dean fumbled, caught off guard, his mouth twitching for a smart response but coming up blank. “Wow,” he settled on, and wanted to smack himself. “Good. Classic-rock fan.” He let out a nervous chuckle.

“What can I do for you, _John_?” Scotty asked, fingers tangling together as he leaned back in his chair.

Dean cleared his throat. He pulled out the papers of the missing person’s report that he had printed before they left. “I was wondering,” he said, smoothing out the papers and showing the pictures to the man, “if you’ve seen these people by chance?”

The first was of a man with a good musculature and a unique tattoo on his forearm. The name at the top was Vince Parker. The second was a woman with bob-cut dark hair, who was smiling pleasantly at the camera. The name at the top was Holly Parker. 

Scotty took hold of the papers and gave them barely a glance. Dean shuffled from one foot to the other, trying not to get annoyed.

“Nope,” he said, handing them back. “Who are they?”

“Friends of mine,” Dean lied easily. “They went missing about a year ago. They passed through somewhere around here. I’ve already asked around Scottsburg and Salem.”

“Sorry,” Scotty grunted and went back to leaning in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. It got on Dean’s nerves. “We don’t get many strangers around here.”

Dean smiled thinly. “Scotty, you got a smile that could light up the room. Anybody ever tell you that?”

Scotty glared at him.

“Okay,” he chuckled and folded the papers away. “See ya around.” 

The man just watched him go with a frown in place.

Fog obscured the area around Sam, and he had no idea how far he had walked. He just knew that it was morning and he was further towards California . . . probably. He glanced behind him and ahead, gut churning with hunger and anxiety. He had a granola bar in his bag, but he wanted to hitch a ride before he opened it. No sense stopping before then. He _had_ to get to California before Dad left again.

Jessica’s smiling face overlapped with the one of blind terror he saw that night. He clutched his bag tighter and ignored the lump forming in his throat, replacing it with cold righteousness.

He would avenge her death. No matter what.

Sam stopped suddenly when a woman he hadn’t seen appeared at his feet, just about making him trip. He startled and took a small step back to get out of her space.

The woman was seated on a backpack and jacket, a larger bag at her side. She was wrapped in at least three layers to stave off the cold, but he wondered why she hadn’t put on the jacket, considering the layers were thin. Her hair was short, extremely short. The blonde pixie was styled tastefully, strands barely brushing her ears. Earbuds nestled deep in her ears and she nodded her head to the beat of a song only she heard.

“Hey,” Sam called out, hoping to get her attention. When he didn’t get a response, he stepped just the slightest bit closer and reached out to gently pat her shoulder.

With a gasp, the woman whipped around to face him, scrambling to her feet and arms raised to fend off an attack. Sam threw up his arms in a sign of peace, and she let out a startled laugh.

Breathing heavily, she took out her earbuds and said, “You scared the hell out of me.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Sam gestured to her bags. “I just thought you might need some help.”

The woman nodded, breathing coming back to a normal pace as she looked him up and down. “No, I’m good, thanks.”

She started to wrap her earbuds up and put them away, and Sam shifted his duffle to a better position on his shoulder. “Uh, so where are you headed?” he asked.

Dark brown eyes met his, and a loud scoff cut his smile short. “No offense, but there’s no way I’m telling _you_.”

“Why not?” Sam asked.

She tilted her head to the side, faux sweetness coating her tongue as she said, “You could be some kind of freak. I mean, you _are_ hitchhiking.”

Sam huffed, the conversation stirring something old and fond deep inside. “Well, so are you.”

A large smile graced her features, and Sam took it for a win.

A car horn interrupted their banter, and Sam turned about to see a white van pulling up beside them. The window rolled down and inside was an older looking man with a ballcap and too little hair. He glanced at the two of them and asked, “Need a ride?”

At the same time, both Sam and the woman answered, “Yeah.”

“Just her,” the man’s disgusted look at Sam had the psychic scoffing at the insinuation. “I ain’t taking you.”

The woman rushed for her things and piled them into the van without a second thought. Sam’s eyes widened. For real? Was she _that_ trustworthy? When not even a moment ago she was accusing him of being a freak while _this_ guy was a total sleazeball?

Just before they pulled out, Sam said to the woman, “You trust shady van guy and not me?”

“Definitely,” the wide, mischievous grin was _way_ too familiar for comfort. His tongue tied and they drove off before he could let out a warning to her.

He hoped she could take care of herself. He would feel incredibly guilty if something bad happened to her.

Klaus was curled in a tight ball, trying to preserve any amount of heat he could. All Ben could do was watch and curse the Winchesters for just _leaving_ them like that. Jamin rumbled in agreement at the poor treatment of their beloved brother, who was now freezing to death-- _literally_ , Ben noticed that Klaus had stopped shivering--and whimpering that they should have found shelter for the medium. Should have done _something_ , despite Klaus’s stubbornness.

Ben couldn’t do anything, though, not anymore. And there wasn’t a structure or building for _miles_. Klaus would have ended up in this same position but in a spot that the older brothers wouldn’t be able to find him. And Ben couldn’t risk Klaus like that. He could only pray that one of their older brothers came back for him before he froze.

(A small part of him reminded him that Klaus was worse off because of the constant warmth the ghosts leached from him daily. Klaus always ran cold. Now he was going to die before the sun rose.)

“Benny?” Klaus’s soft voice drew him out of his spiraling thoughts.

“Yeah, Klaus?” Ben hoped his wobbly voice wouldn’t be heard by his brother. His chest constricted painfully when Klaus’s head rolled in his direction.

“Stay?”

Ben took hold of Klaus’s hand, limiting the amount of energy he used but still wanting to provide some form of comfort. Jamin whined and laid a small tentacle on Klaus’s foot.

“Of course,” Ben whispered, tears slipping down his cheeks.

Klaus woke to something warm surrounding him. He sighed and leaned into the warmth, chasing it when a part of it left his cheeks.

“Sorry, darlin’,” a voice just as warm as the comfort around him said quietly. “Just a second.”

Klaus gasped when the warmth grew, and he fluttered his eyes open to see a heated blanket securely tucked around his whole body. The electric line led from his foot all the way to a body. He made an inquisitive sound and that warm voice was back.

“Hey, darlin’,” a hand reached out, large and calloused, and Klaus didn’t even protest as it gently touched his cheek. He sighed contentedly into the heat the limb provided, and the body in front of him shifted into a more comfortable position as another arm snaked around Klaus’s shoulders and further trapped the heat around him. The hand caressed his cheek, and Klaus leaned into it greedily.

“Is the kid awake?” another voice, less warm but not unwelcome, said further ahead of Klaus.

The body at his side chuckled. “Somewhat. I’m just glad we got here before he got worse off.”

A scoff from the second voice, and Klaus tilted his head, blinking his eyes to try and find Ben. His brother was seated next to him, a sweet smile on his lips when their eyes met. "Hey Klaus. I'm so glad you're alright. These two came in the nick of time."

“Crazy that your feeling actually brought about somethin’.” The second voice reminded him of Bobby, but younger. The accent was near identical. A second body rounded Klaus’s vision and crouched before him and the first.

“You with us kiddo?” the second voice asked, and Klaus let out a grunt of affirmation. He shifted closer to the person at his side, curling his head into the person's chest to warm his other cheek.

There was a rumbly laugh under his ear, and he glanced up into bright, sky blue eyes and a toothy grin. Dark blond curls bounced as the person laughed and brushed raven locks out of Klaus’s eyes. “Hey there.”

Klaus was awestruck.

“Who?” he asked.

The person beside him screwed up his features in worry. It was quickly replaced with a fondness that left Klaus’s breath stuttering.

No one had ever looked at him like that. Like he was . . . special. Precious.

He wasn’t sure how he should feel about it.

“I’m Dave,” the person said, his voice like silk. “Dave Katz.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	50. But Every Touch is Oo La La

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave is clearly an angel. Klaus might be a little selfish. Dean finds something . . . interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi  
> So  
> Things have happened  
> I have been busy with college midterms, then my roommate triggered a depression/dissociation session in me for like a week, and to top it off I got sick. Yay. So.  
> I am back. Not dead! Here's a chapter, but it is not edited, nor is it beta read. It might actually be garbage. I am sorry.
> 
> TW: There be a spooky scarecrow in an orchard in this one.

His vision was clearing bit by bit the more his body warmed, and he discovered some pretty amazing things about Dave. Such as his youthful features (hopefully near Klaus’s age), and his absolutely  _ stacked _ muscles,  _ holy hell-- _

“Are you an angel?” Klaus found himself saying.

That got a startled laugh out of Dave. “Ah, no, sorry. No angels here. But I may have met a few.” At this, he winked at Klaus, and the medium couldn’t help the flare of  _ something _ in his chest.

“An angel?” the other man--who Klaus still didn’t know the name of--barked a harsh laugh.

Dave rolled his eyes, but didn’t get a word out when Klaus said, “Dunno, seems pretty angelic to me . . . swooping in at the last second to save the damsel.”

“Pretty sure that’s a knight, Klaus,” Ben muttered. The light blush dusting Dave’s cheeks was worth it, though, even if the metaphor was off.

“Hey, I saved your ass too,” the other man leaned back in his seat in the front of the truck, Klaus and Dave huddled in the bed (he was glad that they promised him not to move any further from where they found him). The man’s features were sharp, all angles. His hair was shaved close to his scalp, but appeared to be reddish brown. From where he was, Klaus couldn’t get much else about the man, other than his fashion sense reminded him of Sam. “My truck. My blanket.”

“And I thank you kindly,” Klaus snorted. “Sir I-Don’t-Even-Know-Your-Name.”

“Caleb,” the man--Caleb, apparently--said. He folded his arms. “I suppose it’s fine, since if it wasn’t for Dave’s ‘weird feeling’ you’d be dead right now.”

Dave’s arms tightened around Klaus more firmly, and Ben took hold of Klaus’s hand under the covers. The feeling of safety nestled deep inside, and he grinned.

“Well, I guess I’m glad the circumstances won out in my favor.”

Dave gave him a tight smile. Klaus wasn’t sure why that made him anxious.

“What were you doing out here anyways?” Caleb asked. “Doesn’t seem like you’re the hitchhiking type, especially when you don’t come prepared with a coat in negative weather.”

Klaus rested his head on Dave’s shoulder and totally took advantage of the close space to take in what the other smelled like. Sweat, but underneath a hint of some spice that Klaus couldn’t name off the top of his head.

“We were left behind,” Klaus muttered. “My brothers got in a fight and separated. I told them I wouldn’t move until they fixed things with each other. I was serious . . . and they left.”

Ben’s face contorted into something nasty, and he squeezed Klaus’s hand a bit too tightly. Klaus squeezed it back as best he could and buried his face in Dave’s wool jacket.

“They sound like jackasses,” Caleb huffed, turning back around to give Klaus privacy of some sort. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“I would use a stronger word, but yes,” Ben grumbled.

“Hey, now, be nice,” Klaus sighed into the wool. “It was my decision. I knew what I was signing up for.”

“That doesn’t excuse what they did.  _ Willfully _ leaving you on the side of the road. Even if they were upset, they shouldn’t have left you to  _ die _ .”

Klaus glanced up at Ben, noticing his grief stricken face and anger filled eyes. A wave of guilt washed over Klaus, and he bit his lip harshly.

Ben was comparing this to his own death.

“How old are you, kid?” Caleb asked. His tone wasn’t soft, but it wasn’t harsh either. Just simple curiosity.

“Sixteen,” Klaus chuckled. “Not quite old enough to be the dancing queen, but I try.”

Dave let out a laugh and something wiggled warmly in Klaus’s chest. He wanted Dave to laugh at his jokes more often. Dave had a beautiful smile.

“Ah jeez, I’m stuck with  _ two _ now?” Caleb grumbled. “Dave here is eighteen. Legally an adult, but acts like he’s a toddler on good days.”

Dave shoved the back of Caleb’s head in retaliation and Caleb let out an annoyed swear. “See!”

Dave rolled his (how were they so  _ bright _ ?) blue eyes. He directed his gaze to Klaus and said in a soft voice, “I’m sorry about the fight between your brothers, darlin’. But you should take better care of yourself.”

“Moi? You jest,” Klaus flapped a hand. “I take care of myself just fine! How else do you think I get these amazing looks?”

“Says the one that snorted cocaine a couple days ago,” Ben said.

Klaus hissed at him.

“Says the one that nearly froze to death on the side of the road,” Caleb unknowingly added in.

Klaus pouted as Ben turned triumphant eyes on Caleb.

“Exactly,” Dave agreed, and betrayal flashed over Klaus’s face. Dave gave an apologetic smile. “Hey, now, I’m just worried about you. No question about your good looks--” Klaus’s cheeks warmed, “--but your safety should be top priority.”

“Thank you, Dave!” Ben crowed. Klaus let out a long, drawn out sigh.

“I thank you for your concern,” Klaus said. “And I’m grateful that you stayed here at my request, but I can’t just move somewhere else when they . . .” He frowned and his words petered out, not sure if he should share his thoughts.

_ Not when they could come back at any moment. _

But . . . would they? Klaus almost  _ died _ and they didn’t even know. Didn’t even care. Their problems were more important than staying together. And yeah, it was probably selfish, but Klaus was upset by the lack of concern the older brothers showed.

The arm around his shoulders squeezed him closer to Dave, and the older boy tucked the blanket more securely around Klaus. “It’s okay, now. We’ll stay for as long as you want.”

“Well,” Caleb interrupted. “Actually, I’m gonna go for some grub. You two can freeze your asses off here if you want, but I’m taking the truck with me.”

“Can the blanket stay?” Klaus tried not to whine, but it happened anyway. It was still cold, dammit. It wouldn’t warm up until about noon, and the sun was just barely peeking out over the trees.

“‘Course. You got the battery, don’tcha?”

Dave held up a clunky battery that the electric blanket was hooked up to. Caleb gave him a thumbs up and turned the car over. 

"Now get." Caleb pointed at the side of the road.

"Bring back a burger?" Dave asked.

"Yeah yeah." Caleb addressed Klaus, "You want anything kid?"

To be honest, Klaus wasn’t really feeling up to forcing himself to eat. He just . . . he was so tired. But Ben was giving him that  _ look _ and he knew his brother would nag him to death unless he complied, so with a sigh and a shrug Klaus said, “Whatever Dave gets.”

Caleb snorted and said something under his breath that sounded like “ _ teenagers _ ”, and then Dave was helping Klaus out of the truck bed and onto the dew-damp grass.

“You give me a call if you need somethin’, yeah?”

Dave smiled and waved as Caleb drove off, and Klaus huddled back into the position from before. This was nice. He could stay like this forever.

If only the others were here, too.

“You sure they didn’t stop for gas or something?” Dean asked, showing the picture of the couple again to the older gentleman and the sweet old woman behind the counter. The sign over the window,  _ Jorgeson Motors, _ irritated Dean’s eyes with the sun glinting off the metal. The gentleman, a man probably in his sixties, wearing a flannel shirt and blue jeans, handed back the picture, shaking his graying head.

“Nope, don’t remember them,” he said. “You say they were friends of yours?” Concern leaked into the man’s expression.

“That’s right,” Dean lied. Another bust. He was starting to think this whole thing was bogus.

“Did the guy have a tattoo?” A female voice asked. Dean glanced back as a woman entered the shop, carrying two boxes. Her hair was tied back messily, and the cardigan she was wearing was slipping down her shoulder. Dean tried to focus.

He coughed. “Yes he did.”

She came closer and took hold of the picture. Her eyes scrutinized the photo, landing on the unique tattoo Vince had on his forearm. “You remember?” she directed at the older gentleman. “They were just married.”

She handed the photo back to the older man and he gave it another look. His hand came up to his lips as he thought. “You’re right. They did stop for gas. Weren’t here for more than ten minutes.”

Dean perked up, the small thread of a lead better than nothing. “Do you remember anything else?”

“Well, told them how to get back to the interstate,” the man said. “They left town.”

“Could you point me in that same direction?”

“Sure.”

Dean thanked the man and headed straight for Baby as soon as he got a location. Excitement flooded his veins. There  _ was _ something here.

(Dad would never lead them wrong.)

Dean drove through the tunnels of trees down the interstate, keeping an eye out for anything strange while he held his homemade EMF in his lap. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He couldn’t spot a sign of black dogs, demons, or ghosts. He didn’t let the frustration peak through just yet; he had something to go off of now.

He was just out of town when the EMF lit up.

“What the hell?” He slowed Baby to a stop just outside a clearing, checking the EMF. Well, there was  _ something _ here.

He stepped out of the car and entered the clearing: an apple orchard, it seemed. Ladders and baskets littered the area, and in the center was a large, freaky looking scarecrow. Dean scrunched his nose at it and got closer.

The scarecrow wasn’t  _ bad _ , per say, but . . . “Dude, you’re fugly.” 

Burlap face, with gaping holes for eyes, and a torn fedora over--was that real hair?--greeted him. It didn’t even have a smile, just stitching running across the burlap. It was held up by strong cords of rope against a wooden cross, able to survey the orchard from where it rested. It wore a tattered black coat and held something metal in its right hand. Upon closer inspection, Dean noticed it was a sickle. 

Something on its right forearm drew Dean’s attention, and he squinted at it. He clicked his tongue when he couldn’t get a good look, then turned to grab one of the many ladders spread about.

He lined the ladder up with the side of the scarecrow, climbed up to where they were face to face, and took a closer look at the arm. The sickle glinted.

Dean reached out slowly, already knowing what he was going to find under the cloth. There, on the forearm, was the unique tattoo belonging to Vince.

“Nice tat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, no Sam this chapter. Next time he'll be back, promise.  
> Thank you for reading!


	51. Don't Forget Who You Are Even Though You Are Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's BS meter is going off. Ben's thinking things are too good to be true. Sam meets a familiar face. Dean gets a bad feeling about a couple that just rode into town. Klaus is getting tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooo, has it been a while!! Finals are over and I'm exhausted. I saw Supernatural season 15 and I cried until my eyes were puffy. (No spoils in the comments for others, please) (but yes, that ending was heart wrenching and I was so upset with what happened to Cas) (and no, canon is my bitch now, so we changin' the game).  
> There's going to be a couple more chapters for this episode, mainly because everyone is separated (but I promise they all come back together soon!)  
> Enjoy :)
> 
> (BTW thank you so much for all the sweet comments regarding my health. I talked with my doctor and my counsellor and they both agreed that I should get a support animal. I'm now out hunting for a dog <3)

Dean pulled back into town as the sun was starting to set. The girl he had talked to before (did he catch her name?) was standing outside the motor shop and watching him as he pulled in. He parked Baby in front of the motor shop and stepped out.

“You’re back,” the blonde girl noted.

He snorted. “Never left.”

“You still looking for your friends?”

He folded his hands over Baby’s hood and leaned forward. He caught the glint of metal. The name  _ Emily _ was hanging from the girl’s neck. “Mind fillin’ her up, Emily?”

The girl smirked but did as he asked. While she bent down to fill Baby’s tank, Dean gave the place a once over.

“So, did you grow up here?”

“Came here when I was 13,” she answered, getting back up. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I lost my parents--car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in.” She nodded to the shop.

“They’re nice people,” Dean said. 

“Everybody’s nice here.” 

“So, what, it’s the perfect little town?” Dean wanted to call bull. Nothing was  _ this _ perfect, something had to be up. Especially since two people went missing.

“You know, it’s the boonies,” Emily shrugged. “But I love it. I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here . . . it’s almost as if we’re blessed.”

. . . Interesting.

“Hey, you been out to the orchard?” he asked. “Seen . . . seen that scarecrow?”

She huffed. “Yeah, it creeps me out.”

He gave her a laugh. “Whose is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s just always been there.”

Seemed like his lead was what he was looking for. He nodded to the red car parked in front of the shop. “That your aunt and uncle’s?”

“Customer. They had some car troubles.”

“It’s not a couple, is it? Guy and a girl?”

Emily nodded.

Crap.

“Sorry, the Sacramento bus doesn’t run again until tomorrow,” the woman behind the counter pointed at the bus schedule. “5:05 PM.”

“Tomorrow?” Sam gripped the counter tighter. It had already been a full day of walking, and at this rate Dad would be gone before he even reached the area he was in. “There’s gotta be another way.”

“Well, there is,” she snarked. “Buy a car.”

He scoffed at her blatant dismissal and roughly picked up his duffle. Fine. He’d wait the night and pray that Dad didn’t leave before then. He glanced around the room for a nice spot to hunker in for the night. Without realizing, he had already pulled out his phone and was scrolling through his contacts. It wasn’t until the question  _ Call Dean? _ appeared that he hesitated.

When things went wrong, he called Dean. When plans were botched, he called Dean. He  _ always _ called Dean, because he didn’t know what else to do. But . . .

“Hey.”

He glanced up at the female voice directed his way. He blinked his eyes in surprise when he spotted the girl from before. He shoved the phone into his back pocket.

“Hey,” he said back.

“You again,” she snorted.

“What happened to your ride?” he asked. The dude didn’t do something and then ditch her, right? What a scumbag . . .

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “You were right. That guy  _ was _ shady. He was all hands.”

Sam huffed a small laugh, glad that nothing else  _ unseemly _ had happened.

“I cut him loose.”

He was sure she did.

Sam let out a sigh as he looked at the bus terminal. The last bus of the night was being filled, going to Wichita. He would have boarded, but he only had so much cash with him (and damn him for forgetting to snag a card when he left). He’d rather actually get to California within the next day or two rather than a month.

“What’s wrong?” the woman on the floor asked, and he shrugged.

“Just trying to get to California.”

“No way,” her eyes widened.

“Yeah.”

She uncrossed her legs and got to her feet. “Me too.” She stalked closer, hips swaying. “You know, the next bus isn’t until tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, dimples showing. “That’s the problem.”

“Why?” She fluttered her long lashes. “What’s in Cali that’s so important?”

“Just . . .” he shook his head, “something that I’ve been looking for for a long time.”

“Well,” her brown eyes wandered away, lips curling. “Then, I’m sure it can wait one more day.” She leaned in, gaze locked with his as something squeezed in his chest. “Right?”

Sam gave her an uncomfortable grin and looked down with a huff.

“I’m Meg.” She held out her hand for him to take.

Sam didn’t hesitate. “Sam.” They shook hands and Meg threw him a brilliant smile.

Something about her was . . . different. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

“--and that’s how I learned the macarena,” Klaus finished with a grand hand gesture. Dave clapped for him politely with a wide grin, and Ben was amazed that the older boy had sat there and listened to every word as though they were gospel from Klaus’s lips. Klaus’s cheeks were dusted with a rosy hue.

“Noticed that you’re avoiding the harder subjects,” Ben said. He leaned forward with a huge grin when Klaus hissed at him. “Only the PG stuff when buttering up the hotties?”

“Not now, Ben,” Klaus muttered.

“Everything okay?” Dave asked.

Klaus whirled back around and smiled wide. “Of course! Just had an annoying pest that wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Ben cackled. “You’re the one who told me that you were falling for a dude you just met. Can’t love someone unless you know all the gritty details.”

Dave lifted a finger with an “a-ha” face and dug through the bag at his side.

“Ha, jokes on you,” Klaus mumbled under his breath while Dave was distracted. “Our other siblings knew the ‘gritty details’ and chose not to love us, so.”

“What about Sam and Dean?”

Klaus’s hazel eyes drifted to him. “What’s to say I didn’t mean them?”

Ben winced, but Dave popped back up again, holding a can of bug spray.

“Think this will help?”

Klaus fluttered his hands around the can as though it was a prized jewel or a secret treasure (or a bag of coke). “Dave, my hero!”

Dave smirked and handed the can over, but Ben could see the dopey look in his eyes. Ew. Ben scrunched his nose. Did Dave . . . was Dave  _ charmed _ by Klaus?

_ Ew _ .

Klaus opened the can of bug spray and looked directly at Ben. He then proceeded to spray Ben  _ right in the face _ \--rude! Ben gasped, affronted, and gave his brother a murderous look while Klaus beamed.

“It worked! Thanks, Dave.”

“You’re gonna regret that,” Ben grumbled.

Klaus stuck his tongue out.

Caleb’s truck pulled up on the side of the road, and the man rolled down the window. “Hey, kids. Burgers?” He held up the bags and Klaus’s stomach decided that moment was good to  _ wail _ .

Ben couldn’t hold back his laughter. Klaus got all flustered, but Dave just gave him a patient smile and grabbed the bags from Caleb.

“Thanks,” he said, giving Caleb barely a nod before turning his attention back to Klaus.

Oh  _ hell _ no. This dude was  _ seriously _ infatuated with Ben’s brother, and he didn’t like it one bit. His “ _ Klaus is in danger” _ alarms were going off, and the Horror grumbled in agreement. Whenever someone had an interest in Klaus,  _ bad things _ happened.

(Like being handed sketchy drugs. Like being molested or worse in a back alley while he already said  _ stop _ . Like being locked in the mausoleum, the basement, the closet--)

Needless to say, Ben called bull.

But . . . so far, Dave and Caleb had been nothing but helpful to them. And Klaus really,  _ really _ needed the help. For now . . . he’d keep a close eye on the men, and as soon as something raised a flag they would make a run for it.

Yeah. He could work with that.

“We’re famous for our apples,” Scotty said as he placed down two plates in front of the happy couple at the table. “So you got to try this pie.”

Dean’s mouth watered despite the fact that he was here to get more information and keep the couple in his sights in case something happened. He couldn’t help it. The pie sounded  _ amazing _ , and the dude was giving it to the couple for free! Unfair.

“Hi, Scotty,” Dean nodded to the man, who’s bright smile twisted into a scowl when he saw the younger man. “Can I have a coffee? Black.”

Scotty trudged away, but the glare he left with made Dean nearly smile.

Dean sat at the table next to the couple. The pie smelled so good . . . Oh, what the hell. “Oh, and some of that pie while you’re at it,” he added, and Scotty’s scowl deepened, somehow.

Turning to the couple that were enjoying their free pie (free!), Dean said, “How you doin’? Just passing through?”

The woman eagerly answered. “Road trip.”

“Mmm,” Dean bit his lip and nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

They nodded and Scotty returned to . . . fill up the couple’s drinks. That were still nearly topped off.  _ Come on, dude . . . _

“I’m sure these people want to eat in  _ peace _ ,” Scotty chastised him. Which, take your own advice, bucko. They didn’t need their drinks topped off  _ right then _ . Would have interrupted anyway.

“Just a little friendly conversation,” Dean said with innocent eyes. Scotty glowered. “Oh, and that coffee, too. Thanks.”

_ Serve your other customers, jerkface. _

“So, what brings you to town?” he asked the couple once Scotty was out of earshot.

“We just stopped for gas,” the woman said. “The guy at the gas station saved our lives.”

Dean raised his brows. “Is that right?”

“Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking,” the man joined in. “We had no idea. He’s fixing it for us.”

Dean shook his head. “Nice people.”

“Yeah,” they turned back to their pies.

“So, how long until you’re up and running?”

“Sundown,” the man answered.

Huh. That didn’t sound right. Dean’s brows didn’t lower, but he frowned. “Really? To fix a brake line?”

“Mhmm,” the man nodded with a mouth full of pie.

Dean leaned forward like he was concerned they would be overheard (maybe he was). “See, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour.” Sweetened the deal. “Wouldn’t charge you a thing.”

“You know, thanks a lot,” the woman said softly while the man scrunched up and scoffed. “But I think we’d rather have a mechanic do it.”

“Sure.” Pressing his lips together, Dean leaned back in his chair. It didn’t sit right with him though, so he went on. “It’s just, these roads, they’re not real safe at night.”

“. . . I’m sorry?”

“I know it sounds strange,” Dean chuckled. “But, uh, you might be in danger.”

The woman looked disturbed by the words, and the man set down his fork careful so he could turn to fully face Dean. “We’re trying to eat, okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean licked his lips. Suddenly, he missed Sam. Sam could have done this so much better. The couple would have listened to him. “You know, my brother could give you his puppy-dog look, and you’d just buy right into it.”

The door to the café opened and Scotty said, “Thanks for coming, Sheriff.” The two had a quiet conversation and Dean knew his time was up. He didn’t even get his coffee or pie.

He rolled his eyes as the sheriff sauntered up to him. “I’d like a word, please,” the sheriff said.

“Come on, I’m having a bad day already,” Dean grunted.

The sheriff placed his hands on the table and leaned forward, trying to intimidate Dean. “You don’t want to make it worse.”

Dean sighed. He was going to be chased out of town, wasn’t he?

Ten minutes later and the sheriff was “escorting” Dean and Baby to the town limits. As soon as Baby was past the sign, the sheriff turned the vehicle back around and headed for where he came.

Great. Well, he was still able to check out the orchard.

“So, what? You’re on a vacation or something?” Sam asked. Meg and him were sharing dinner together, two beers already finished and the vending machine goodies spread out between them.

“Yeah, right,” Meg grinned. “It’s all sipping Cristal Poolside for me.”

They both chuckled at that.

“No. I had to . . .” her face grew serious, and the mirth melted, “get away from my family.”

“Why?” Sam shook his head.

“I love my parents,” she admitted. “And they wanted what was best for me. They just didn’t care if  _ I _ wanted it.”

Sam looked down, fingers tapping on his beer.

“I was supposed to be smart, but not smart enough to scare away a husband.”

Sam conjured a small smile for her, and she smiled back. 

“Well, it’s just . . .” Meg looked off into the distance. “Because my family said so, I’m supposed to sit there and do as I was told.”

And didn’t  _ those _ words hit something deep. His whole life, Sam was told what to do. He never got to be  _ himself _ . His father and older brother thought it was weird that he didn’t want to hunt black dogs and ghosts and instead wanted to go to school and learn and make friends. His dad constantly got on his case for not being the same as Dean, for being too skinny as a kid and too lanky as a teen. His brother always chose things for Sam because it had been hammered in his head when he was  _ four _ to  _ watch out for Sammy _ and  _ Protect your brother Sammy _ . Sam had never gotten a chance to be  _ himself _ .

Until Jess.

(A small part of him also said  _ Klaus _ and  _ Ben _ .)

“So . . .” Meg went on, and he locked eyes with her. Something burned in those irises, and Sam got goosebumps. “I just went on my own way instead.”

The two lapsed into silence, not breaking the contact. When Sam said nothing, Meg squirmed and looked away first. “I’m sorry.” She huffed. “The things you say to people you hardly know.”

“No,” Sam shook his head immediately. “No, it’s okay. I know how you feel. You remember that brother I mentioned before that I was road-tripping with?”

She nodded. Her eyes were an interesting shade of chestnut, he noticed.

“It’s kind of the same deal.”

“And that’s why you’re not riding with him anymore?”

Sam’s mind flashed to pale skin shivering under silver moonlight, on the side of the road, all alone except for the chill of a brother colder than death. His heart twisted, but he ignored it and shook his head. Klaus made his decision. He was probably at the nearest motel, that or Dean had gone back to get him. There was no way that Klaus was in the same spot.

Right?

Meg pursed her lips and held up her beer. “Here’s to us. Food might be bad, and the beds might be hard, but at least we’re living our own lives . . .” they clinked their beers together, “and nobody else’s.”

He took a deep swallow of the beer and drowned the insistent worry that had wedged itself in his conscious.

“Hey, Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“We should go with Dave and Caleb, huh?”

“But what if Sam and Dean come back?”

“Listen . . . I really don’t think it’s going to happen, Benny. They left, and they don’t care about us.”

“But . . .”

“I’m gonna ask Dave tomorrow night. If Sam or Dean aren’t back by then, I’m leaving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please comment if anything is wrong or if there are mistakes (or if there are moments where you feel uncomfortable, because I WILL listen and fix what needs to be fixed, pinky swear it)  
> See you next time!


	52. You Can Be Kind to the One That You love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds out what the monster is that's attacking couples. Sam and Dean come to a horrifying realization regarding Klaus. Sam has choices (but does he really have a choice when it comes to family?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! It's been a year since I started writing All We Need is Somebody to Lean On!! I'm so proud of this thing, since it's the only fanfiction I've actually stuck with for so long *wipes away imaginary tears*  
> Thank you for the support I've received this year. I probably would have given up a long time ago if not for you guys ;-;  
> Special thanks to those who've stuck through it all since the start:  
> Spicy_Cannoli_AKA_Lia  
> Lagt  
> I_dont_have_a_name_yet  
> crystalrainwing  
> exhausted_pigeon  
> Just_AnotherFangirl  
> piedpipernicus  
> TaintedTruths

Dean waited until night before he rolled back into the city limits, Baby’s engine roaring through the chill air. It was starting to get warmer out, which was good since some of the more desperate monsters tended to back off.

Well, that and they wouldn’t be freezing their asses off in the middle of a graveyard.

Speaking of . . . he wondered what Klaus was up to right now. He had surely gone with . . . His fingers tightened around the steering wheel when his thoughts automatically shifted to his other brother, the one who  _ left him _ . Well . . . they both did, technically. And for what? Some stupid sense of vengeance? Dean grit his teeth.

Sam wasn’t coming back any time soon, that much was obvious. Klaus, though? Who knew.

He hoped that this wasn’t another “Incident”. Sam had run off several times in the past. Klaus, though? They always left him, first. He . . . he didn’t know what to do with the change except hope that it didn’t result in the same way that Sam’s college trip did.

He pulled up to the orchard just as he heard screaming.

He barely stopped long enough to park Baby before he was out of the car in a flash and running, shotgun in hand, towards the terrified woman. Dean held the gun aloft as he rounded a tree, stumbling into the couple he had met before. They startled at his approach, and he raised the gun into the air to show he wasn’t a threat.

“Get back to your car,” he commanded, the poor woman shaking where she stood. Behind them something shifted and crunched through fallen leaves, and the dark outline of a person in rumpled clothes came closer. Metal glinted in the moonlight, in the shape of a half moon. A sickle.

The fugly scarecrow.

“Go, go!” Dean shouted, getting them back into gear. He shoved them behind him and leveled the gun at the scarecrow. The couple scramble away.

One shot didn’t even slow the monster, straw flying through the air. Not a ghost. He traded the shotgun for the pistol at his back and let loose three rounds into the chest. It sped up, straw leaking from the holes as though it were blood. The monster growled fiercely.

This thing wasn’t human, at least, but he had no clue what to do to kill it. Best option? Run.

He trailed after the couple, guns up and taking shots as he ran, in the hopes that it would slow the creature down. “Go, go! Faster!”

The couple trampled through the fallen leaves in front of him, the remnants of snow making the dead leaves stick to their shoes. They stopped right in front of Baby and Dean whipped around to fend off the monster.

“What--” the man behind him gasped for breath.

There was nothing there. Dean searched either side of the orchard opening and squinted into the darkness. In his rush, he forgot a flashlight.

Nothing.

It was as if the scarecrow just . . . up and vanished.

Dean wasn’t taking any chances, keeping his guns raised as adrenaline continued to race through his veins.

“What the hell was that?” the man asked.

“Don’t ask,” Dean snipped.

After a few more moments, Dean ushered the couple towards their car, but the woman shook her head. “The car broke down,” she whispered, as though afraid that the monster would suddenly pop up if she spoke any louder.

_ Broke down _ ? Didn’t that old man in the motor shop fix it up?

He recalled what she had said before,  _ They’re fixing the brake line. Should be done by nightfall _ .

The town was involved with this monster. 

This was  _ much _ bigger than he thought. He . . . he needed his brothers.

Sam woke to the sound of his phone ringing next to his ear, and he blearily sat up from the hard floor of the bus station to answer it.

“Hello?” his eyes widened. “. . . Dean?”

His brother rushed through what had been happening the last two days since they had separated. Going over the whole case, everything he had learned, the creepy townspeople, all of it.

“The scarecrow climbed off it’s cross?” Sam asked, that detail lighting up the most in his brain. Where had he heard of something like that? It sounded familiar.

“Hey, I’m tellin’ you,” Dean huffed, “Burkittsville, Indiana--fun town.”

“It didn’t  _ kill _ the couple, did it?” Sam swallowed.

“No,” Dean’s voice took on that false confident tone he used whenever he was trying to reassure Sam. “I  _ can _ cope without you, you know.”

Sam furrowed his brows. “So something must be animating it--a spirit?”

“No, it’s more than that. Shot it with rock salt  _ and _ regular rounds and it didn’t do a thing.”

Sam’s brain clicked. “A god. A pagan god, that is.”

“A god? The hell?”

“Yeah, it would make sense! The annual killings, the fact that it’s always a man and a woman . . .”

“Yeah,” Dean said, warming up to the idea. “And you should have seen the townspeople, fatting the couple up like turkeys.”

“The last meal for the sacrifices. So the god possesses a scarecrow.”

“And the scarecrow takes it’s sacrifice. And for another year, the crops won’t wilt and diseases won’t spread. Okay, I see your point,” Dean sighed. “How do I kill a  _ god _ ?”

“I don’t know . . . first step is probably figuring out which god it is.”

“Got it. I’m on my way to the local community college, anyway. Made an appointment with a professor, since I don’t have my trusty, sidekick geek boy with me.”

Sam grinned. “You know, if you’re trying to hint that you need my help, just ask.”

“I’m not hinting anything,” Dean denied, but Sam could hear that hesitance. “Actually . . . uh . . .” he chuckled and Sam waited his brother out.

“I want you and Klaus to know--I mean, don’t think--”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too,” and . . . Sam meant it. He was angry and upset, and honestly? Hearing his brother’s voice made him regret a lot of the harsh words he had thrown Dean’s way. Dean was just trying his best and didn’t deserve what Sam had said. But . . . “Me and Klaus?”

“Yeah, you and Klaus. Did leave him on the side of the road, after all.”

Sam huffed, but his smile dropped. Wasn’t Klaus with Dean? A bad feeling grew in Sam’s stomach that he shoved down.

“Sam . . .” Dean went on, and Sam was drawn out of his thoughts. “Look, man. I . . . I understand. I know you gotta go out and do this. I know you gotta live your own life.”

“You serious?”

“You’ve always known what you want,” Dean said. “And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. I mean, you always have. Hell, I wish I--” Dean choked up. “Klaus helped me realize that. Anyway . . . I admire that about you.”

Sam, surprised, didn’t say a word.

“I’m proud of you, Sammy.”

That’s what got him, and his eyes began to burn. No one . . . no one had been proud of  _ Sam _ . Not until college, and Jess, and high scores on tests like school  _ mattered _ . And yet here Dean was, saying he was  _ proud _ , because Sam ran away from him, because Sam left and could do the things Dean couldn’t and . . . guilt ate away at Sam.

“I don’t even know what to say . . .”

“Say you’ll take care of yourself. You and Klaus.”

Sam frowned. “Klaus?” That dreadful feeling sprang back up, and this time with enough force to knock the air from his chest.

“Yeah, Klaus is with you, right?”

“He isn’t with me. I thought he was with you.”

There was a screech of tires on the other end. “. . . What?”

Sam’s throat closed and he swallowed twice before he could speak. “He . . . He wasn’t with me this whole time. I left him on the side of the road. Didn’t you come back for him?”

“No,” Dean’s horrified voice trickled through. “No, I thought he got up and went after you.”

“Ben--Ben wouldn’t have let him just--”

“Call him. You call him  _ right now _ and make sure he made it to a-a motel or something. Text me his location as soon as you get it.”

Sam nodded quickly, hanging up with Dean and scrolling through his contacts to find Klaus’s burner number. Shuffling to his left drew his attention, and he glanced up. Meg was stirring from sleep, and she looked at him in concern. He probably looked harried.

Grabbing her pack, she walked over to him and asked, “You alright? Who was that?”

“My brother,” he clicked on Klaus’s number and held it up to his ear.

She raised her brows. “What did he say that’s got you all riled up?”

“He said goodbye.”

The phone wasn’t answered. In fact, if the animated voice was to be trusted, the phone was no longer in service. Either Klaus had turned off his cell, it had died, or--

A conversation with Ben surfaced, then, and Sam’s gut clenched.

_ A strange man called Klaus’s phone. He needs a new one. _

Klaus didn’t have a phone.  _ Klaus didn’t have a phone, and no money, and he had been left on the side of the road _ .

Sam stood up abruptly, startling Meg. He grabbed for his things, and didn’t stop at Meg’s protest.

“W-Wait, Sam, hang on!” Meg tried, grabbing at his wrist. He violently pulled away, and she back away in fright.

“ _ Don’t stop me _ ,” he growled.

She didn’t move to grab him again as he raced from the station. He’d have to steal a car . . . probably something less noticeable. Then he’d track down Klaus.

_ I’m coming, Klaus. _

Dean anxiously listened to the professor while his thoughts swirled. Surely everything was fine, right? Sam had gotten a hold of Klaus and found out where he was, and Dean could pick him up once he got Sam’s text.

_ What was taking Sam so long? _

“It’s a rare thing when I get questions on pagan idolatry,” the professor said, and Dean came back to the conversation.

“Right, well, it’s kind of a hobby.”

“You said you were interested in local lore?” At Dean’s nod, the professor said, “I’m afraid Indiana isn’t really known for its pagan worship.”

“Well, what if it was imported? You know, like the pilgrims brought their religion over. Wasn’t a lot of the area settled by immigrants?”

“Well . . .” the older man nodded.

“Like that town near here--Burkittsville? Where are their ancestors from?”

“Northern Europe, I believe,” the man rubbed his glasses on the edge of his plaid shirt before placing them on the tip of his nose and browsing through the titles of the books in his office. “Scandinavia.”

“What could you tell me about those pagan gods?”

“Well, there are hundreds of Norse gods and goddesses.” The man took down a large book titled:  _ Norse Mythology _ .

“I’m actually looking for one--might live in an orchard.”

The old man paused in his flipping of pages and looked up at Dean with raised brows. Dean gave him his most serious look and the professor shrugged.

“A wood god, let’s see,” the man flipped through the pages towards the middle, then pointed at a picture of a man hanging upside down from a cross, but Dean shook his head. The professor flipped through more pages, and Dean barely caught a glimpse of one before the page was turning but he saw what he was looking for.

“Wait, wait,” he stopped the man and put his hand on the book, pointing to the picture. It was a man, possibly a scarecrow, hanging from a cross. “What about that one?”

“Oh, that’s not a woods god, per se.”

“The . . . Vanir?” Dean raised a brow. The professor nodded. “‘The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity’,” Dean read, “‘keeping the local settlements from harm. Villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice, one male and one female’.”

The professor was silent beside him.

“Kind of looks like a scarecrow, huh?” Dean huffed.

“Well,” the man smiled nervously. “I suppose.”

“‘This particular Vanir,” Dean read on, “its energy sprung from a sacred tree’?”

“Well, pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic.”

“So what would happen if the sacred tree was torched?” Dean asked and stood up straight again. “Do you think it would kill the god?”

The professor’s face twisted into a tight smile. “Son, these are just legends we’re discussing here.”

Dean’s serious face melted into something more open. “Oh, of course. Yeah, you’re right.” Dean looked back down at the page, memorizing the words, then held out his hand. “Listen, thank you very much.”

The professor shook his hand. “Glad I could help.”

“All right,” Dean headed for the door. He gave the man one last grin before he left, opening the door without looking. As soon as he turned back around, he saw a black form flying at his face. Pain exploded across his nose, and his last thought before he passed out was  _ I really hope the bastards didn’t break my nose _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Happy New Years! And Happy Holidays!   
> Let me know if there are any mistakes or plot issues. Thank you so much for sticking around for so long!!


	53. Here We Go!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus is found, hugs all around . . . except that Dean very well could end up a pile of meat before the night is over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! A lot has happened recently. I got a dog!! Sort of. It's a foster-to-adopt, so I'll be adopting her soon. Her name is Flo!! She's so cute <3  
> Thank you for the name suggestions!   
> TW: Guns, violence (except not explicit), terrible parenting/uncle and aunting(?)

Klaus sat upright, dislodging Dave and startling Ben. Ben looked warily at his brother and hedged, “Klaus? Everything okay?”

“Something’s wrong,” Klaus muttered, eyes distant. “I don’t know what it is, but . . .”

“. . . Klaus?”

Klaus returned his gaze to Ben and shuddered. “Someone is going to die. I can  _ feel _ it.”

Dean woke to an eerily quiet, dark room. Light filtered in from the slats of a wooden door, but only enough to see wine bottles and a dead rat. Great.

The cellar didn’t seem too extraordinary. At least the rat looked like it had a great time before it died, what with the molded piece of wrapper it had stuck in its mouth.

With a sigh, he sat up from his uncomfortable position on the cold stone floor. His back did not appreciate the neglect, but he had laid on worse, so he mentally told it to deal.

The clank of metal drew his attention to his hands. Two silver loops circled his wrists, and another two connected him to a pipe. Awesome. They cuffed him to the wall. If he could just find something to pick it with . . .

Shuffling feet interrupted his thoughts as they grew closer. The groan of wood made his head pound. Sunlight stabbed his retinas and flooded the cellar.

“Aunt Stacy,” Emily’s frightened voice carried through the dank room. “Uncle Harley, please.”

The old couple that ran the motor shop shoved their niece down into the hole beside Dean, the girl’s cheeks wet and puffy with tears. “Uncle Harley” hesitated for a moment, looking down on Emily with so much pity and heartbreak that Dean’s lip curled.

These sick bastards were going to sacrifice their only family, and they had the time to look guilty about it now? After all the murders they had a hand in?

“Why are you doing this?” Emily asked in a shaky tone.

“For the common good,” her aunt stated before closing the cellar door and locking it. Dramatic ass bitch.

Sam was speeding down the highway like a bat out of hell. There must have been some divine force helping him or something, because he hadn’t been stopped once.

_ Just a couple more miles to Burkitsville _ , he thought, eyes peeled for any sign of Klaus.  _ I can backtrack from there. _

Dean still hadn’t answered his phone, after hours of Sam leaving message after message. Both his brothers were off the radar, despite the rules they all set up for each other explicitly stating why it wasn’t good to keep your phone off. It made Sam angry. More than anything, it made him absolutely terrified.

A lone, familiar white pick-up was parked on the side of the road, and he slowed in case the driver decided it was a good idea to walk into the middle of the street.

The license plate caught his eye, and he screeched to a stop.

_ Caleb? _

“I don’t understand,” Emily wiped at her face, her sobs having slowed as Dean worked on the cuffs and explained the situation. “They’re gonna kill us?”

Dean stood and made his way to the cellar door. Maybe he could break the lock with enough force. He slammed his shoulder three times against the wood, but much to his surprise the door held solid. Panting, he turned back to the blonde and said, “Sacrifice us. Which is, I don’t know, classier, I guess.”

The joke fell flat, Emily’s eyes still watery.

“You really didn’t know anything about this did you,” Dean came back down the stairs and stood next to the trembling girl.

“About what?” she asked in a mocking tone, “The scarecrow god?”

At Dean’s pursed lips, she huffed out a sigh. “I can’t believe this,” she said, shaking her head.

“Well you better start believing, because I’m gonna need your help.”

Emily brushed her bangs back, taking a moment to pull herself together. “Okay.”

“Now, we can destroy the scarecrow,” Dean said, beginning to pace as his thoughts raced. “But we gotta find the tree.”

“Tree? What tree?”

He paused, pointing her way. “Maybe you can help me with that. It would be really old, the locals would treat it with a lot of respect, like it was sacred.”

The blonde took a step forward, finger on her chin. “You know . . . there was this one apple tree. The immigrants brought it over with them. They call it ‘The First Tree’.”

“Is it in the orchard?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know where.”

Hinges creaked and the wooden door swung open wide. Three men--Emily’s uncle, the sheriff, and Scotty--stood with guns pointed down at the captives. Emily’s aunt came up from behind the men and said, “It’s time.”

Emily glanced at Dean with fearful eyes. Dean glared at the townspeople. The men held their guns higher, safety locks disengaged.

Dean really hated people.

Sam stepped out of his “borrowed” car and rounded the truck. “Caleb?” he asked, indeed spying the man in the front seat. Caleb jumped, then rolled down the window. A wave of heat escaped from the inside.

“Jes--” Caleb’s eyes went wide. “Little Sammy Winchester. Wow! You grew up  _ big _ .”

Sam gave him a tight grin. “And you’re still an asshole.”

Caleb frowned. “That’s no way to talk to a friend.”

Huffing a laugh, Sam asked, “What are you doing out here?”

“Well, we  _ were  _ about to head out.”

“We?”

The back door opened and a body slammed into Sam, making him stumble. 

“You came back for me.”

_ Klaus _ .

Sam hurriedly wrapped his arms around his little brother, checking him for head wounds but too frazzled to let go and check for other injuries.

“You’re okay, you’re safe,” Sam rambled, hand running through messy curls. The thin arms around his waist tightened, and Sam copied them. “I’m here, you’re okay.”

“Ben said you’d come. I . . . wasn’t so sure.”

A knife twisted in Sam’s chest. “Of course I came. I’m so sorry I made you wait.”

Klaus sniffled and pulled back. Sam gave him a sympathetic smile, which Klaus returned hesitantly. Red, puffy eyes looked around.

“Where’s Dean?”

“How many people have you killed, sheriff?” Dean asked as he was tied to an apple tree. The sun was setting, and the townspeople were starting to get anxious. “How much blood is on your hands?”

“We don’t kill them,” the sheriff stated. As the others had said on the way over.

What kind of delusion did they have to live in in order to think this wasn’t murder?

“No, but you sure cover up afterwards,” Dean nodded at the orchard around them. “I mean, how many cars have you hidden, clothes you’ve buried?”

The sheriff didn’t reply, just finished tying him and stepped back to readjust his gun. Dean shook his head.

“Uncle Harley, please,” Emily said, softly tugging at her restraints. 

“I am so sorry, Em,” her uncle sounded regretful, but did nothing to help her. Dean grit his teeth. “I wish it wasn’t you.”

Emily let out a humorless laugh.

“You have to understand,” her aunt said. “It’s our responsibility. And there’s just no other choice. There’s nobody else but you.” The woman began to cry.

“I’m your  _ family _ .”

“Sweetheart . . .” The woman came forward and brushed Emily’s bangs back. Emily turned away. “That’s what sacrifice means--giving up something you love for the greater good.”

Her uncle stood up abruptly and began walking away. The aunt let a few tears fall. “The town needs to be saved. The good of the many outweighs the good of the one.”

They left just as the sun set, scuttling away before Emily had a chance to say a word. Dean glared at them as they left.

“I hope your apple pie is freakin’ worth it!” he shouted.

Emily sobbed once, then cleared her throat and asked, “So, what’s the plan?”

“I’m workin’ on it.”

Klaus took a moment to say goodbye to Caleb and Dave. Dave smiled sweetly and gave Klaus his number without the younger having to ask. It brought a dust of red to Klaus’s cheeks, but he didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He slipped the paper into his back pocket as he hopped into Sam’s stolen car.

“Ben is here?” Sam asked as he started the vehicle.

“Always,” Ben answered, blue glowing light signaling his arrival.

“Perfect.”

Sam pressed the gas pedal to the floor.

“Working on it” turned out to take longer than Dean thought. The binds holding him and Emily were expertly done. His boot knife had been taken, so he couldn’t do anything about cutting the ties. The thin rope was tight, too, so dislocating his thumb wouldn’t do him much good. His and Emily’s fingers were purple from the cut of blood circulation.

“You don’t have a plan, do you?” Emily snarked, and Dean bumped his head into the tree behind him.

“I’m working on it,” he grunted.

Glancing around, he found he couldn’t see further than what was in front of them. The road could be seen in the distance, and the few leaves on the trees rustled in the wind. “Can you see?” he gestured with his head to the spot at their backs.

“What?”

“Is he moving yet?”

Emily turned her attention behind her, pulling on her restraints to get a better look. She shook her head. “I can’t see anything.”

A crunch of snow. Dean, startled, tensed every muscle in his body at once. Not yet, not yet--!

He struggled with the binds, not caring if it bit into flesh and made him bleed. He had to get away--

“Dean?”

Dean’s head whipped around, eyes wide as they landed on his three little brothers. Sam stood there with a raised brow, Klaus not far behind with a shotgun. Ben stood a bit further back, a haunting blue glow emanating from his being.

Dean let out a disgruntled grunt, his body falling limp against the tree. Klaus smirked and gave Dean an exaggerated salute.

“Oh, I take back everything I said,” Dean laughed. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Sam began working on the binds while Klaus and Ben kept watch. Dean stared at the littler brothers. 

“How’d you find them?” Dean asked Sam quietly.

Sam huffed. “You’d never believe it; Caleb found them.”

“ _ Caleb _ ? Like, Uncle Caleb?”

Sam scrunched his nose. “You still call him that? He’s only like three years older than you, dude.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “He was friends with Dad first.”

Sam just snorted.

“Keep an eye on that scarecrow. It could come alive any minute.”

“Already is,” Ben said, unblinking and laser focused on the area. “Klaus--”

“Yep,” Klaus hefted the shotgun and slinked away from the group. Dean’s heart rate picked up as the younger moved out of his sight.

But Dean should give the teen more credit. He  _ had _ been a superhero, after all. And he trained under the Winchesters. Kid could take care of himself.

. . . Didn’t mean Dean had to like it.

Sam finished with the ties and Dean rubbed his wrists to get the blood flowing again.

Sure enough, as Dean rounded the tree, the cross holding the scarecrow was empty, ropes hanging limp and useless.

The bang of a shotgun echoed through the night, making everyone jump.

“Not slowing down!” Klaus reported somewhere deep in the trees. Another shot.

“Klaus, don’t get too close!” Ben urged. “Dean, how do we stop this thing?”

Sam untied Emily and the group moved for the road. Dean addressed Emily, “This sacred tree, it’s the source of its power. We take it out, we take the monster out.”

“No other way?” Ben asked, floating beside them but keeping Klaus within his sight at all times.

“Nope.”

“So let's find it and  _ burn _ it,” Sam said.

“In the morning,” Dean picked up the pace as the gunshot sounded closer. “Let’s just shag ass before Leatherface catches up.”

The cock of a gun sounded way too close to Dean’s ear, and he came to a screeching halt as cool metal pressed to his head. The uncle and aunt stood there with grim faces, the shotgun held in the uncle’s hands steady.

Behind them, Scotty lifted his own rifle. The sheriff, too. All their exits were blocked. Ben disappeared from view, most likely to inform Klaus of the situation.

A low growl verberated around the orchard. All was silent except for heavy breathing.

“Please,” Emily implored once more. “Please let us go.”

“It’ll be over quickly, I promise,” her uncle said.

“ _ Please _ .”

“Emily, you have to let him take you,” the man argued. “You have to--”

The glint of a metal object thrust forward from her uncle’s chest, cutting his sentence short. Her aunt screamed. Emily screamed. Dean’s eyes grew large.

Klaus appeared from the trees, breathing heavily. “Brought a guest.” He flashed a wicked grin.

The scarecrow god withdrew the sickle long enough to grab Emily’s aunt and hook the sharp tool into her uncle’s ankle. The god dragged the aunt, still shrieking, and uncle off behind the line of trees.

The townspeople fled like pepper to soap. Not wanting to be left behind in case the god wanted more, Dean tugged on Emily’s arm, the girl frozen in place at the gruesome sight.

“Come on, let’s go!” He started them running again, back for the car that Sam stole (that’s his boy!).

The monster didn’t follow.

Morning came and Klaus was exhausted. Too many emotions for one night. Ben was still pissed at Sam and Dean, but Klaus was just . . . done. He wanted to forgive and forget. Plus, he got a cute boy’s number, so really, he was the winner here.

Emily, the sweet blonde haired girl that Dean had befriended during their time as sacrifices, stood in front of an old, gnarled apple tree with a gallon of gasoline. She handed the gas can to Sam, who dumped it on the tree without hesitation.

Dean, meanwhile, lit one of the fallen branches aflame and prepared to throw it. Emily stopped him.

“Let me.”

“You know, the whole town’s gonna die,” Dean reminded her.

She grabbed the branch. “Good.”

Klaus shivered, and not just from the morning chill. At least the warmth from the impromptu bonfire kept him cozy.

“So, where do I drop you off?” Dean asked as they sent Emily on her way on a bus far, far away from her hometown. Sam stopped before the Impala, Klaus and Ben talking inside the car and away from this conversation.

“You don’t.”

Surprised, Dean asked, “What made you change your mind?”

Sam huffed a laugh. “Well, other than our idiot little brothers? Not much. I still want to find Dad. It’s just . . .” he paused, looking at the boys. “Mom and Jess . . . They’re gone.”

Dean wasn’t expecting  _ that _ . That was the first time Sam actually said it, that Jess was  _ gone _ and she couldn’t come back. It broke Dean’s heart.

“Dad is God knows where,” Sam steamrolled on, eyes bright. “You and me, Klaus and Ben . . . we’re all we got left.”

Sam sighed, looking down and clenching his teeth. “So, uh,” he coughed. “If we’re gonna see this through, . . . we’re gonna do it together.”

Dean nodded, pride swelling in his chest. “Hold me, Sam, that was beautiful,” he teased.

Sam slapped his hand away as it came up to take hold of his shoulder. But his grin was big and happy, and that’s all Dean wanted.

“Come on,” Dean waved for the car.

“You should be kissing my ass!” Sam laughed. “You were dead meat, dude.”

“Yeah right!” Dean argued. “I had a plan. I’d have gotten out.”

“Right,” Dean could  _ feel _ the eyeroll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know if I did something incorrect. I'm too tired to word tonight hahaha, but I was determined to finish this chapter.


	54. Just Keep Breathin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has a discussion. A new hunt arrives. Oh dear . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was rushed, but I needed to get it out there. I will most likely go back to fix it up. Lemme know in the comments~

“We need to talk,” Ben said as he perched on the motel table.

Klaus groaned and thumped his head on the table surface. “Ben, leave it be--”

“No, he’s right,” Sam put down the gun he was cleaning and gave his full attention to them. Dean moved from his spot near the door and took a seat at the table.

“So. If we’re splitting up? You make _sure_ that Klaus has a phone with him.”

“Not that we should have another reason to split up . . .” Klaus pouted. Ben gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

“Of course,” Sam said, those annoyingly sympathetic eyes on Ben and Klaus, and Klaus smiled in return. Ben looked like he was trying to keep a smile at bay as well, looking hilariously “stern” (read: he looked like he swallowed a frog). “Neither of us want to split up again unless absolutely necessary.”

“Why would we need to split up?” Klaus asked.

“Cops,” Dean shrugged. “Monster nest. Any of us being chased, really.”

Klaus snorted. “I mean, I don’t think it’d be good for us to split up _now_ . Daddy dearest will _definitely_ catch me then.”

“What do you mean?” the older two asked.

“Haven’t you seen the news?” At their shaking heads, Ben sighed and Klaus laughed. “It’s been playing on repeat all morning. Old Papa’s money, I’m sure.”

Ben grabbed the remote and turned the channel to the closest news station.

Reginald Hargreeves stood in all his bastardly glory, lips pursed as the news woman held the microphone way too close to his face. The picture of Klaus that had been shown before was plastered next to Reggie’s head.

_“I’m very concerned about my son, ma’am,”_ TV Reginald said. “ _He’s just a boy. Taken right from under my nose._ ”

“ _And what would you describe the kidnappers as, Sir Hargreeves?_ ” the woman asked.

“ _I know not what they look like or sound like. All I know are names: Sam and Dean Winchester. My son was able to contact one of my other children and give the names. Sadly, he wasn’t able to relay his location before the call cut out.”_

“Oh _hell_ ,” Dean swore, running a hand down his face. “At least they don’t have photos?”

Klaus shrugged. “Yeah, but who else do you know that travels all across the U.S. with the names _Sam and Dean Winchester_?”

“Yeah . . . no splitting up for now,” Sam muttered.

Ben plopped down on one of the beds and turned off the television. “I just can’t understand how Vanya could out us like that . . .” He bit his lip and Klaus could tell he was about to say something stupid. “Do you think it’s because of me?”

Klaus wanted to wring his brother’s ghostly neck.

“You? Why would you be the reason?” Sam asked, all sincerity and puppy eyes. Damn that man.

“Vanya called and I talked to her. I was scared and Klaus was trapped in the asylum and I couldn’t follow and I just--” 

“It’s not your fault, Ben,” Klaus interrupted. 

“I scared her! I knew I shouldn’t have talked, I should have just hung up--”

“She didn’t tell dad because of you!”

“Then why else would she have told him?”

“What if she didn’t tell him at all?” Sam suggested. Both boys stared.

“You don’t really know our family, do you?” Klaus huffed.

“No, listen,” Sam spread his hands out. “You said your dad was crazy about security, right? What if he tapped the phones? Maybe he was listening in to the conversation and noticed that Klaus’s powers got stronger.”

The two boys gaped and looked at each other. “Uh . . .”

“Well, enough of that,” Dean said, standing. “We can’t worry about that stuff, and there’s nothing we can do about your dad except stay low and off the radar.” He placed a heavy hand on Klaus’s shoulder and squeezed it twice. “We’re back together now. That’s all that matters.”

“We’re sorry for abandoning you,” Sam chimed in. “We didn’t mean for it to turn out like that.”

“We didn’t _abandon_ them,” Dean mumbled.

“You did,” Klaus and Ben agreed. Sam nodded solemnly. Dean grumbled and looked away.

“W-Well, now we got something else to handle. We lay low, but that doesn’t mean we stop hunting,” Dean pulled out a newspaper clipping and placed it on the table. “Ever heard of a rawhead?”

Ah, typical Dean. Klaus shook his head. One day, he’d get the man to lower his “pride as a man”.

“Nope! Please, do tell.”

Everything went to hell in a handbasket as soon as they found the kids. The grungy basement, despite being from the dinosaur age, was apparently well enough to keep from alerting the brothers to the rawhead.

“Sam!” Dean shouted, shooting his taser gun at the monster as Sam tumbled down the stairs. The taser missed the monster as it dashed into the darkness with a howl.

Sam stumbled back to his feet as the kids screamed.

“Sam, get them outta here! Klaus and Ben can handle it up top!”

Sam nodded, “You take this!” He tossed Dean his taser gun. Dean had one shot left after having foolishly shot his off too early.

His little brother ran up the stairs with the kids, herding them to safety while Dean took care of the monster. The rawhead growled somewhere to Dean’s right, and he dredged through the sunken area of the basement, water sloshing at his feet.

Broken furniture, loose floorboards, and broken glass were strewn around the room. Beetles scurried as the beam from his flashlight discovered their hiding places. Spiders hung from cobwebs and looked on passively. All was silent.

Dean was rammed into from behind and he went sprawling into the water and against the wall. A fist slammed into his side, and he gasped for breath. The rawhead roared.

One chance. He scrambled for the taser as the rawhead unhinged its jaw to bite into him. The light from the stairs was blocked. _One chance_ \--

“Dean!” Ben’s voice.

Dean fired the taser just as the rawhead leaned forward to finish him. 100,000 volts of electricity flew through the air. A hand on his shoulder, firm and insistent. A sudden surge of white-hot pain.

Dean fell.

Klaus’s vision whited out and he screamed. Beside him, Sam grappled with his body as it spasmed.

What felt like ages, Klaus finally came to. Sam was shaking him. “Klaus? Klaus, what was that? Are you okay?”

Wait, Sam wasn’t shaking him.  _ He _ was shaking. Klaus held up a hand and the faint blue glow vanished.

Something happened to Ben. Which meant . . .

“Sam,” Klaus urged. He didn’t need to say more. Sam placed him back on the ground carefully and ran back to the abandoned farmhouse.

The children were huddled safely inside the car, so Klaus focused his energy on bringing Ben back from wherever he had been sent flying to. It didn’t take more than a few seconds, but Klaus was winded afterwards.

Ben sat at his side, looking more ghostly than he had since he had come back after death. “What was that?” Klaus asked.

Ben shook his head, distress written clearly on his face. Dread filled Klaus.

“No . . .”

“Klaus!” Sam called, and Klaus could see the taller man lugging Dean behind him, the smaller man slung over Sam’s shoulders.

“I tried to help,” Ben explained. “But as soon as I touched him, I . . . I don’t know, I just . . . fizzled away.”

“Is he alive?” Klaus asked, even though he knew the answer. He could see it. But he couldn’t trust himself. “Ben, is he still alive?”

“I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I am tired and ready for a long winter's nap.


End file.
